


Something Like Love

by whatdoidowiththisthingnow



Series: Jamie [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Gotham, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:31:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoidowiththisthingnow/pseuds/whatdoidowiththisthingnow
Summary: A prequel/sequel to the "Jamie" fic. Post-Sanvers break-up, Maggie starts a new job in Gotham.[Um...in an unexpected turn of events, this prequel got super sad, so I kind of made it go back and forth between Maggie in Gotham after the Sanvers break-up, and Maggie & Alex together again, post-Jamie fic.That sounds super confusing, and I'm sorry. The prequel was too sad, and I needed more Sanvers in my life?]





	1. Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie Sawyer leaves National City for a new job in Gotham, finding herself in a situation she'd never imagined...

“Ryan?”

“Sawyer.”

“Warehouse on 16th and Broadway. Ever been there?”

Sitting in her new, slightly dated office in Gotham, Maggie Sawyer watches Detective Olivia Ryan stare at the ceiling—then type the cross streets into Google Maps.

“Nope.”

“Cheater,” she laughs.

“Alright, when I said I was your _Guide to Gotham_ , I didn’t mean I had the entire city memorized.”

“Well what good are you, then?” she teases.

A rubber band whizzes across the room and barely misses her left ear. Before she can retaliate, there’s a knock on the door.

“Sawyer?”

“Yeah.”

“Phone call. Gotham University. Professor…uh… I don’t know. Some biology professor.”

“Professor Stajsovljevich?”

The rookie blinks, “Sure. If you say so.”

“What the hell did you just say?”

“It’s his _name,_ Ryan.”

“Spell it.” 

She says it like a dare, but she doesn’t know Maggie already has it memorized, “S-t-a-j-s-o-v-l-j-e-v-i-c-h.”

She sticks out her tongue as her partner flips her off, then picks up the phone and greets the professor, “Good morning, sir.”

She delves into a discussion on the syllabus for her detectives. She’s been in Gotham for about two months, helping the police department put together their own science division. They’d sifted through a stack of recruits when she first arrived, and now they were going to start some classes. 

Detective Ryan was her new partner—surprisingly, she actually likes the woman. Despite her appearance, the blue-eyed, strawberry blonde detective was less Barbie than she expected. She was tough as nails and didn’t stand down to anyone she didn’t deem worthy of her respect. 

She was not a fan of having a partner, but Olivia was the only woman in her new precinct, and—as far as she could tell in two months—the only competent GPD officer in the building. They had fallen into a decent rhythm, and Maggie had found it easy to be herself in her presence—or as much of herself as she knew how to be without the Danvers-sized wound she was still trying to heal.

It also helped that barely three hours after Maggie’s feet hit the ground in Gotham, Olivia had saved her life.

She found herself thrown to the ground with surprising force, and with half a shrug, Olivia smirked, “Welcome to hell.” 

That turned out to be more accurate than she’d expected.

She was definitely not in National City anymore.

Maggie didn’t mind Gotham though. Despite the significantly higher crime rate, it was an interesting city—and it had actual seasons, which was something she didn’t realized she missed until the October chill took over a few weeks ago and the leaves started to change.

It was also nice that no one here knew anything about her life that she didn’t tell them. They didn’t know about her failed engagement, or look at her with pity every time she showed up alone. There was rarely any mention of Supergirl. No one talked about CatCo or Luthors. It was like a whole different planet here, and it was refreshing. She felt like she could restart her life. 

When she hangs up with the professor, she throws a paperclip at her partner, “Let’s go check out that warehouse. Could work for training.”

…

The warehouse looks…like a warehouse. But it’s big enough for their needs, and there’s some abandoned furniture inside that they could use, and the rent is reasonable. She calls up her new captain for further approvals.

She’s technically a liaison from NCPD, but she operates under the higher-ups in Gotham while she’s here, and still sends weekly updates back to her own precinct. She occasionally gets involved in cases, but usually only if they would fall under the purview of will soon be the new GPD Science Division.

As they’re driving back, her partner takes a turn that even Maggie knows is not in the direction of the precinct.

“Where are we going?”

“Lunch, Sawyer. You do eat, right?”

“Depends.”

“Floutas?”

Maggie raises her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know what floutas are. I dated this guy once, and—”

But she doesn’t finish her sentence. They’re interrupted by a call over the radio for available officers, and even though Olivia estimates they’re twenty minutes out, she insists on going. 

Maggie responds to the call while Olivia flips on the sirens and races through traffic.

…

They pull up to a white bungalow in one of the more decent neighborhoods, and there’s already two other cruisers, a fire truck, and an ambulance at the scene. The activity level of the people outside tells Maggie this case is no longer life or death—it’s either one or the other.

She steps out of the car and follows her partner in the house.

As soon as they step inside, she hears Olivia mutter, “Fuck.”

“Ryan?”

When she moves to the side, Maggie sees the reason for the swearing. A young woman, lifeless, lying in the middle of the living room floor. She looks younger than Maggie. She watches for a second as they check for signs of life, but even she can tell it’s pointless. 

She scans the room, watching the cops jot down notes and the techs sweep for prints. Then she sees a photo on the shelf across the room, “Who’s the kid?”

“The what?”

Olivia’s eye follows her finger to the photo, and Maggie notices a few more things—a little blue blanket, a children’s book under the coffee table, a Disney DVD. Although admittedly, not enough signs that it would’ve drawn your attention from the dead body, unless you were really looking.

“ _Fuuuuuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Olivia mumbles.

A slight sense of urgency takes over, and Maggie turns to one of the other officers, “Is there a kid here?”

“What kid?”

She really hopes this idiot isn’t one of her new recruits, “There are pictures on the wall of a kid. A little girl. Is she here?”

Another officer steps in and glares down at her, “There’s a nursery upstairs, but no one’s here. Must be at daycare or something. You think we didn’t do our job? We cleared the house. There’s no kid.”

“Reynolds,” her partner’s voice is hard and cold, “Did you _actually_ clear the house?”

“We cleared the damn house! Just because we aren’t smart enough for your fancy geek squad doesn’t mean we don’t know how to—”

Whatever rant he was on is drowned by screams—loud, high-pitched, bone-chilling screams. 

Maggie and Olivia run toward the stairs, but by the time they get there, another officer is already headed down to them with a screaming, crying, squirming little girl in her arms. 

Olivia is barely loud enough to cut through the screaming, “Are you fucking kidding me, Reynolds?!”

“We cleared the house!” he bellows.

The officer holding the little girl looks uncomfortable. Maggie watches the EMTs take turns passing her between themselves, checking for injuries as best they can, but the girl doesn’t stop. Even Reynolds and the other officer—who clearly missed the little girl during their search of the house—try, but nothing helps.

Olivia steps in, and Maggie notices right away she’s calmer than the other officers—she looks like she has more experience with kids—but the little girl is not giving in.

She knows there’s nothing she can do for her, even while every cry cuts like a knife. If six other people can’t soothe the little girl, she certainly can’t do better. She does the only thing she can think of in the moment—she goes outside, “Hey! You!”

She knows the officers from her new precinct, but not the ones standing outside right now. The older guy looks up from his interview with the neighbor, “Hey, sorry. Hi. Detective Sawyer.”

“Garcia.”

“Officer Garcia, is this one of the neighbors?”

“Mary Ann,” the middle-aged woman offers.

“Hi, Mary Ann. I’m Maggie. Do you know the little girl that lives here?”

“Jamie? Oh my God, is Jamie in there? They said Grace was home alone…”

Maggie tries to steady her voice, but she can still hear the faint sounds of screams from the house behind her, “Mary Ann, do you know Jamie well?”

“I babysit from time to time.”

She gives her a small smile, “Do you think you could go with Officer Garcia here, and see if you can try and calm her down for us? I don’t think she’s hurt, but she’s scared. A familiar face might help.”

Mary Ann straightens up and Maggie thinks she might walk into battle for the screaming little girl. Even in the chaos of the moment, it makes her smile. 

Garcia leads the way, “Come on, I’ll take you to her.”

Mary Ann takes two steps toward the house, before Maggie grabs the cop’s arm, “Don’t let her see the body. Bring the kid outside.”

He nods, and she stands outside as the coroner’s van pulls up to the curb. She watches Olivia walk out the door with the little girl, hand her to Garcia and the neighbor, and make her way across the lawn.

“Nothing’s working. I’ve seen a lot of kids, but this one…she won’t calm down. She’s going to make herself sick.”

Maggie thinks back, “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. What about the neighbor? Is she helping? She said she babysits sometimes.”

They both look over to Mary Ann, and she’s now crying almost as hard as the toddler is. Olivia groans, “Well that’s clearly not helping anyone…”

She takes off again, and comes back a second later with the screaming kid in her arms, “Your turn.”

“What the hell am I gonna do that everyone else hasn’t?”

“I don’t know! But we need her to calm down. Everyone else got a turn—you’re not special, Sawyer.”

Maggie glares, “Thanks for that.”

“You know what I mean.”

She hands over the kid, and Maggie slings her onto her hip, and she’s screaming in her ear. She turns to her partner, “See? I told you! Try someone else.”

Another officer is pulling Olivia away from her though, “I—I will. One second. I’ll be right back, Sawyer.”

Maggie stands there in the middle of the front yard, kid screaming, and then her back pocket is vibrating. She slides her phone out and checks the caller ID, “Sawyer.”

It’s the DA’s office. Evidence from their last case has gone missing. Evidence that would put a serial killer behind bars. Not only is she pissed, but this kid is still screaming in her ear, and no one seems like they’re going to give her a hand. 

She’s yelling because she’s angry, and she’s yelling because she has to try and be louder than the kid in her arm. She makes sure her anger is directed appropriately though, forcing the secretary to hand off the phone to the idiot lawyer who’s supposed to be in charge. 

She yells at him for a while.

“Yeah, well tell your incompetent paralegal that evidence is pretty fucking important in the legal process, so congratulations, he probably single-handedly let a serial killer back out into society!” 

She takes a deep breath, “Look—I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but you better find it. Trace every goddamn step. Round up everyone in that office and search them, and their cars, and their houses if you have to. I’m not about to lose this case because of you.”

She shoves the phone back in her pocket, and looks up to see Olivia standing a few feet away, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that! I let one “fuck” slip, and you give me that look? You uttered at least seven in the first sixty seconds after we got here.”

She snorts, “No, Maggie, I don’t give a shit about your swearing habits. But…” she reconsiders, “Actually, yeah, you might want to tone it down a little.”

She’s still seething, “Oh? And why’s that?”

But Olivia is staring at her—well, not at her, at her…shoulder? She looks at her own shoulder and nearly jumps out of her skin.

She doesn’t remember hearing the screaming stop—but probably because she was screaming loud enough for the both of them. She looks down her side, and the toddler is quiet. Her head is heavy against her chest, and her fist is tight around the collar of her shirt, pulling it down to the edge of her bulletproof vest.

She lowers her voice so she doesn’t wake the sleeping girl, “Ryan. Here. Take her.”

Olivia backs up, “Hell no, Sawyer. Are you kidding me? She’s yours now.”

Maggie’s stomach lurches. It must show on her face.

“Relax,” Olivia rolls her eyes, “Not _yours_ yours. But you have to take her to get checked out. Ride with her to the hospital.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, Detective. You know the drill,” she’s grins. Maggie would like to say quite a few more four-letter words right now, “Chain of evidence and all that, blah blah.”

“Did you actually just say ‘blah blah?’”

Olivia shrugs, “It’s all very official. Now get your ass in the ambulance, and take that little girl to the hospital. I’ll meet you there and we’ll look for her next of kin.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

She laughs, “I’m very aware.”

…

A couple hours later, she’s sitting in the hallway of the local hospital nursing a cup of coffee, when her partner drops into the empty chair next to her. She hands over a styrofoam container. When Maggie flips it open, she laughs, “Flautas? Seriously?”

“Would you rather have cafeteria food?”

“Definitely not. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They sit in silence for a few moments while they eat. Olivia stares through the open door in front of them, “How is she?”

“Fine, as far as they can tell. No physical injuries.”

She turns to Maggie, “And how is she really?”

She sighs, “Not great. She was a dehydrated, but she wouldn’t eat or drink anything. So…they had to give her an I.V.”

Olivia winces, “Oh no.”

“You can imagine how well that went.”

“Poor baby…”

“Yeah…” Maggie shuts her eyes, but it doesn’t help. The whole scene replays in her mind: The nurses and doctors pinning the little girl down, her screaming again, the way her eyes kept finding Maggie, seemingly pleading for her to stop all the people from hurting her. She felt helpless and more than a little disgusted with herself—even though she knew there was nothing she could do in the moment.

“That’s rough. Sorry you had to deal with that by yourself.”

She tries to shrug it off, “Whatever. Once the I.V. was in, they gave her fluids and something to help her sleep so they could run more tests. She’s been out ever since.” She doesn’t mention the horrible way she felt the little girl’s body go limp under her hands. A chill runs down her spine, and she blinks the tears out of her eyes.

Olivia drops her head in her hands, “ _Fuck_.”

It’s a warranted response—but a second later, she stands and kicks the now-empty chair. Maggie jumps up and grabs her arm, “Hey! Stop—you’re gonna wake her up! She’s alright now. I’m sure once she rests up, and we get her family in here, she’ll be fine. She’s a tough kid.”

Then Olivia’s face drops, and Maggie’s heart sinks.

Her throat goes dry, “Please tell me there’s someone coming for her?”

The blue eyes looking at her get a little watery, and that’s the only answer she needs.

She slumps back down into the chair, Olivia following suit seconds later, “Fuck.”

…

They work through the next few hours tracking down anyone in connection with Grace Palmer—and they find next to nothing.

Her husband died in a car accident over a year ago. Both of them were only children, and both sets of their parents were also deceased. They had no relatives in the state, and no one that Grace had contacted regularly in the last six months. She had nothing that said what would happen to Jamie if she died.

She was the mayor’s secretary, but the other people in the office barely knew her—she had only started working there a couple months ago.

Olivia is fuming, “It’s impossible that she has no one. How does that even happen?”

“Easier than you think…” Maggie mumbles to herself. 

She tries not to think about the roles being reversed…if anyone would show up at her funeral. Her parents? Ok, probably. James Olsen, if someone went through her phone records. Would he tell the Super Friends? Would they even care? …would Alex?

“Maggie?”

She jolts out of her train of thought and looks up at her partner, “Sorry. Sidetracked.”

“You ok?”

“I’m fine.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow, but she says nothing.

Then a fifty-something year old woman walks down the hall, holding a stack of folders, eyes flitting between them, “Detective Ryan?”

Olivia stands, and Maggie does too.

“I’m Detective Ryan. This is my partner, Detective Sawyer.”

She extends her hand to both officers, “Evelyn Sanchez. Child Protective Services. I’m here about Jamie Palmer.”

“Have a seat, Ms. Sanchez.”

They pull up another chair and the three of them start going over the case. Not five minutes into their discussion, a young nurse comes up to the table, “Detective Sawyer?”

She looks up at some guy who’s probably five years younger than her, but looks barely out of high school, “Yeah?”

“Uh…could you…could you come back in the room? She—Jamie—she’s waking up.”

“Sure,” she stands and turns to the other women, “I guess I’ll be in there.”

“It’s fine, Sawyer. Go. I’ll fill in Ms. Sanchez and we’ll be with you in a minute.”

She hears the case worker mumble something, and she can only imagine what she’s saying. As many cases as she’s worked, this is unusual—even for someone who used to deal with aliens on a daily basis.

When she walks in the room, she’s grateful Jamie isn’t crying. But she tries to climb off the bed as soon as she sees Maggie, and the nurse has to hold her back. Maggie sees her bottom lip start to quiver at his touch. 

She hurries to her side, “No, no. Don’t cry. It’s ok. They don’t want you to fall down. You’re ok.”

Standing closer, her heart aches. The little girl is swimming in the gown they gave her, and she’s sporting the biggest frown for such a small person, “M—Mommy,” she whimpers.

Her heart shatters. Maggie didn’t know she could talk until now, and she doesn’t know what to say.

The nurse steps in, his voice is calm, “Your mommy’s not here right now. This is Det—”

“Maggie,” she interrupts. She’s about to intimidate the kid. She looks down at Jamie, curious, “Can you say Maggie?”

“Mamie.”

She grins. “Yeah. Maggie.” The girl smiles a little and pops her thumb in her mouth, “You’re Jamie.”

She points to herself, “Me.”

Maggie laughs and looks over at the nurse, “How old is she?” 

He glances at her chart, “22 months.”

She does the easy math, “You’re almost two.”

The little girl says nothing. She has no idea what kinds of things a two-year-old knows. Apparently she can talk a little, but she’s not sure how much. She has even less of an idea what she can understand. She doesn’t know anything about kids. 

“Up.”

She blinks at the little girl, who now has her arms raised, then looks at the nurse, “Is that…ok?”

He nods, “Just be careful around her arm. We took the I.V. out, but it’s probably a little sore.”

She lifts the girl gently and Jamie settles easily against her hip. She puts her head on Maggie’s shoulder, “Bankie.”

Maggie grabs the little teddy bear blanket on the bed and hands it to her, but she shakes her head.

“No. Boo. Mine.”

She doesn’t follow. She turns to look for the nurse, but he’s gone. Olivia and Ms. Sanchez are now standing in the doorway.

Her partner smiles sweetly, and her voice matches, “You want your blue blankie, sweetheart?”

Jamie nods. 

Maggie suddenly remembers the blanket she saw on the couch at the crime scene. She’s surprised Olivia knew about it—and more surprised that she understood what the girl was asking for in the first place.

“It’s not here, but I think we can get it for you.”

Both women step closer, and Jamie tightens her grip around Maggie. 

Olivia seems to notice, and guides the social worker to the chairs at the foot of the bed. 

Maggie puts some distance between them and sits on the corner of the mattress, turning Jamie so she’s sitting on her lap. The little girl tries to turn around and bury herself in Maggie’s chest, but Maggie turns her back. She wraps her arms around her as tight as she dares, and hopes that’ll comfort her long enough for Ms. Sanchez to get through what she needs to.

…

The social worker says she’ll be back for Jamie tomorrow. She tells them there are a few families on call, and it shouldn’t be hard to get her into a foster home right away. Maggie’s grateful for that.

Olivia heads home for a few hours, promising to get Jamie’s blanket out of evidence, and come back with as much of her stuff as she’s allowed to.

Meanwhile, Maggie can’t leave the little girl’s side. 

She tried, once. Jamie was eating Cheerios and watching Sesame Street from the bed while Maggie was working in the chair. Her phone rang, so she shut her laptop and slipped out the door.

The screaming brought her back in at a run.

Despite how calm Jamie was during the CPS interview, she’s now worried that tomorrow is not going to go well. Around 9:30, Jamie falls asleep on her chest, and Maggie finds herself pinned to the bed—which is how Olivia finds her over an hour later.

“Cozy.”

She groans, “I had to use the call button to get the nurse to hand me my phone, because every time I move, she wakes up. And every time I’m out of her sight, she cries.”

Olivia frowns and slides a pizza box on the empty table, and drops a small duffle bag on the floor, “Need some help?”

“Yes, please.”

She rounds the bed and considers the situation, “On the count of three, slide out as quickly as you can. Got it?”

Maggie nods. Olivia counts to three, then she lifts the little girl quickly and carefully while Maggie slips out. She places Jamie back down so she’s cuddling the pillow much like she was just cuddling Maggie. Then she takes the little blue blanket from the duffle bag and throws it over her.

“You found it.”

“I did.” They take seats next to the table, and she flips open the pizza box, “Hungry?”

“Oh my god, I’m starving.”

Olivia scoffs, “Are you telling me those flautas didn’t hold you over?”

Maggie laughs, “Uh, I think around hour seven I got hungry again, and that was…” she checks her watch, “over two hours ago.”

“Long day,” Olivia sighs.

She grabs a slice of pizza and takes a bite, “One of the longest I’ve had in a while.”

“You were amazing today.”

Maggie shrugs, “Just doing my job.”

“I think we both know you did a little more than that… I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

She shakes her head, “Someone else would’ve done it.”

Olivia grabs a slice of pizza, “I’m not so sure. Either way—I’m glad you were there today. Jamie’s better for it.”

Maggie looks at the little girl clutching the pillow tight, “I don’t know about that,” she mumbles.

“What do you mean?”

Maggie turns to face her, “What’s going to happen tomorrow, Ryan? If I leave to take a phone call, she screams. When CPS tries to take her, what’s going to happen? How much better will she be then?”

She gapes at her, “I—I don’t know, Sawyer. It can be a rough transition—you know that as well as I do. But she’ll be ok. She has a family to go to, and once she settles in, she’ll be fine. Kids are resilient.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She expects her to say _I am_ , but instead, Olivia takes a long look at Jamie, and sighs, “Yeah, I hope so too.”

…

At 5:30am, she wakes up in the chair next to Jamie’s bed. The toddler is still asleep, clutching the pillow where Maggie had been the night before. 

Halfway into their pizza, Sanchez called to say she’d be there as early as possible. Maggie was sure that Jamie would not go quietly, so they worked it out so she wouldn’t spend the day with Maggie at her side, and then be forced to leave. They were going to take her first thing in the morning. They all agreed it will be better that way.

A small part of Maggie thinks Jamie might sleep through the whole thing, much like she did with the ambulance ride. The rational part of her brain is pretty sure it’s the dumbest thing she’s ever thought.

She spends the next hour pacing the hallway, occasionally staring at the open door to Jamie’s room. When Olivia and Ms. Sanchez show up, she stops.

“How’s it going, Sawyer?”

“She’s still asleep.”

Olivia nods. Maggie turns to the social worker, “She’s going to a good home, right? These are good foster parents?”

Sanchez smiles, “They’re great.”

“Ok,” she wrings her hands, “Ok. That’s good. She’ll be ok then, right?”

The woman frowns slightly, “We’re going to do everything we can to help her.”

That’s not the answer she was hoping for, but it’s honest. She knows she can’t promise Jamie’s going to be ok—no one can. 

Olivia looks between them, “Ready?”

Maggie nods, but suddenly she can’t make herself go into the room. She can’t bring herself to do what she’s supposed to. She can’t make herself go in there and break that little girl’s heart.

Sanchez is at the door with Olivia right behind her, but then she turns to see Maggie rooted to the spot, “Sawyer?”

“Sorry. I—I’m coming.”

She tilts her head, “You don’t have to…”

“It’s fine,” she lies.

Olivia walks back to her, her voice softer, “Maggie. It’s ok. We got it.”

She nods and watches her partner go into the room. A minute later, Jamie must wake up, because the screaming is back again. 

And she’s either yelling “Mommy” or “Mamie,” but with her heart pounding in her ears, Maggie can’t really tell—and neither option hurts less than the other.

Tears well in her eyes, and it hurts to breathe. She looks around in panic and sees the door at the end of the hall. She walks as quickly as she can without running, and pushes through the door.

Down the hall, sitting in the empty stairwell, both hands over her ears—she can still hear Jamie’s cries between her own sobs.

…


	2. Slowly, She Heals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months later, Maggie gets a phone call about Jamie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what makes a sad story better? Sanvers. (Duh. I should know better by now, honestly.)
> 
> I hope the past/present doesn't feel totally out of place, because I didn't think of it until after I posted chapter one... Oops.
> 
>  _Present story (post-Jamie fic) in italics_.
> 
> Past story is normal. 
> 
> I'm sorry I made this so confusing. Poor planning on my part. Hopefully it starts to make some sense as we move along.

_Alex silently pulls off the highway and into the deserted gas station. It’s well after midnight, and the place doesn’t even look open._

_Maggie peeks at the sleeping five-year-old in the backseat, and tugs the blanket a little further up on her chest. When they come to a stop, she immediately takes Alex’s face gently in both of her hands, wiping her tears with her thumbs, “I’m sorry, Al. You said—”_

_“I know. I—I do. I just didn’t expect…” her breathing is a little uneven and she kisses Maggie softly. She rests her forehead against Maggie's, “Mags, I want to know the whole thing. I do. And you said it wasn’t easy, but I just…I hate picturing you like that.”_

_Being this loved by Alex Danvers was new again, and her sweetness makes Maggie grin. She kisses her._

_She'd come to terms with her life in Gotham, and Jamie, and everything that went with it, so it was easy retelling the in-depth story to Alex—but less easy for Alex, it seemed._

_They had 17 hours to kill on their road trip to Seattle, and after Jamie fell asleep, Alex turned to Maggie with a question she never realized Alex had been carrying around this whole time, “One day, will you tell me more about Gotham? About Jamie?”_

_She said it wasn’t always on her mind, but she was curious. Maggie had nothing to hide._

_“What do you want to know?” she’d asked._

_“Everything?”_

_So she started at the beginning, detailing her life in Gotham much more extensively than when she’d run into Alex and Kara on that fateful Tuesday nearly six months ago._

_Maggie thinks ahead to what happened next, “Um…how about I drive, and you ride shotgun?”_

_Alex’s face falls, “Oh no.”_

_“Hey,” she laughs, “You know this story has a happy ending.”_

_“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better…” she pouts._

_That pout is adorable. She slaps her thigh lightly, “Come on, Danvers. Out, out. Let’s go. We’ve still got 10 hours of driving ahead of us.”_

_Alex reluctantly gets out of the car and swaps seats. They pull out of the gas station, merging back onto the dark, deserted highway, and Maggie glances at her, “I can stop if you want.”_

_“No, it’s fine. Just…let’s get past the sobbing in the stairwell.”_

_“Right…” Maggie bites at her lip, then pulls a pack of tissues from the center console and tosses them onto Alex's lap._

_“Seriously?”_

_“I think your name might come up soon…”_

_Alex huffs, “Great. You got any more of these?”_

_Maggie takes one hand off the wheel and finds Alex’s, bringing it to her lips and kissing the back of her hand, “I love you.”_

_She rolls her eyes, “I have a feeling I’m not going to love me in a minute…”_

* * *

Maggie buries herself in work. Every time Olivia broaches the subject, Maggie tells her she doesn’t want to talk about it.

For a full week, she wakes up in a cold sweat—hearing those cries, seeing that little girl’s face and her mother’s dead body, watching helplessly as the doctor’s pin her to the hospital bed—more than once, she wakes up in tears.

But she’s not the headstrong rookie she once was. She grew up. She knows she can’t make those nightmares go away on her own. After her third restless night, she makes an appointment with the in-house therapist. 

Slowly, it helps. Slowly, she heals.

Her and Detective Ryan aren’t the lead investigators on the case and there’s nothing about it that would make it fall to the science division—so after a while, they don’t hear much about it at all.

…

Three months later, Maggie’s in the middle of a training seminar with her recruits, lecturing them on alien assessment techniques, and her phone rings. She checks the Caller ID, but she doesn’t recognize the number. She silences it and throws it back in her bag.

At the end of the day, she’s walking across the Gotham University campus with Olivia and a couple of their new science division recruits.

“Darts tournament tonight at Shakers. Who’s in?”

Maggie looks between her partner and the older officer who made the suggestion, “Ryan? Darts?”

“Definitely not,” she shakes her head, “I might be an excellent marksman, but that only extends to firearms.”

She laughs, “Good to know. Afraid I’m out too.”

The older guy shrugs, but the younger officer whines, “Come _on_ , Sawyer. You never hang out with us. I know we’re not as cool as the folks in National City, but no pool? No darts? Don’t you ever have fun?”

They’d offered her more than one game of pool, but she hasn’t touched the game since her and Alex broke up. Winning twenty bucks from some rookie was not worth the hangover she’d get by drinking herself brave enough to play in the first place.

“I don’t,” she deadpans. “I’m allergic to fun.”

Olivia snorts and the older officer chuckles, but the younger kid groans, “Whatever. All work and no play, my friend…”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

Closer to the parking lot, the guys go in one direction, and her and Olivia head in the other. She hits the locks on her car, and the other detective pauses, “What about Fischer’s? Just the girls? It _is_ Friday, after all…”

“No thanks,” she grins, “I’ve got a date tonight.”

Olivia’s jaw drops, “Ex- _cuse_ me? You have a date and you didn’t tell me? Who is she? Where did you meet? _When_ did you meet? Where are you going? I need details!”

Maggie shakes her head, “You’re insane—and it’s none of your business.”

“Come _onnnn_ , Sawyer,” she whines, “I’m boring and married and I need to know how the other half lives. It’s your civic duty to allow me to live vicariously through you.”

Maggie hopes her face doesn’t reflect the way her insides react to the word _married_ , “I’m pretty sure I’ve made civic duty my entire career, and there’s nothing in the handbook about entertaining you with my dating life.”

“You’re no fun,” Olivia pouts.

“You know, I’ve actually been told that recently…” she laughs.

…

Around seven, Maggie’s sitting in a bar downtown, waiting for her date, and her phone rings.

The number isn’t familiar, but she answers anyway, “Sawyer.”

“Detective Sawyer?”

She puts her free hand over her ear, and slips out of of the noisy bar so she can hear more clearly, “This is.”

“Hi, Detective. This is Evelyn Sanchez. Child Protective Services.”

An image of a crying, brown-haired, green-eyed toddler flashes through her mind. She pushes her way out the door, and steadies herself against the brick wall. Her voice shakes slightly, “Yeah. I—I remember you. How are you? How’s…” her heart aches at the memory, “how’s Jamie?”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling.”

That’s not an answer. Maggie expected to hear, “good,” or “fine,” or even “hanging in there,” but no. She got none of those.

She swallows hard, “Ok…”

…

She never goes on her date. After talking to the social worker, she calls the woman she was supposed to meet and cancels. She stays at the bar though, attempting to drown the conversation with CPS out of her memory. 

As she reaches for her fourth—fifth?—glass of whiskey, a hand claps over the rim and holds it in firmly in place. 

“Sawyer…”

She looks up and Olivia sits down next to her.

“Ryan.”

“Can I interest you in a water?”

“No.”

She doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it does. Still, Olivia slides the whiskey further from her reach, and the bartender puts a glass of water in it’s place. Maggie sighs.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Definitely not.”

“Maggie…”

“I appreciate it, but I…can’t. Especially not—not here.”

Olivia stands, swipes Maggie’s coat from behind her, and holds it out, “Then let’s get out of here.”

Maggie doesn’t want to. She would much rather drown her sorrows in endless glasses of whiskey, but now she’s busted. And…maybe it would help to talk to someone. She is her partner after all, she could be trusted.

She lets herself be led outside, toward her own car, tossing her keys over before Olivia can even ask. When they start driving away, Maggie realizes she’s going to her own apartment—she’s not sure how her partner knows where she lives, but she finds she doesn’t care enough to ask.

She silently leads her into the building and up the three flights of stairs. She throws her shoes, coat and keys into a pile by the door, then crosses the room and pulls open the fridge, “Beer?”

“Sawyer…”

She rolls her eyes, “Kidding…mostly,” she adds to herself. She pulls a pitcher of water from the bottom shelf and pours two glasses.

“So the date went well?”

“There was no date.”

“Oh…”

“No,” she corrects, “I mean, there _was_ a date. But I never…I cancelled.”

“Huh.” Olivia tilts her chin a little, “Then you wanna tell me what this is about?”

She hands her partner the second glass of water, and flops down onto the couch. Olivia joins her. Maggie can’t bring herself to look at her, but she can feel her eyes on her all the same, “I was…engaged, once.”

She doesn’t look over, and Olivia doesn’t say anything.

“I was going to marry the most badass, insanely beautiful, brilliant woman in the entire world—no, the entire galaxy. Somehow she picked me. She wanted to marry _me_. About a year and a half ago, my life was perfect—well…maybe not perfect, but it was pretty damn close.”

“I’m sorry, Maggie.”

She stares up at the ceiling while tears stream down her cheeks. She moved on from Alex—kinda. But in her less-than-sober state, she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Getting a phone call about a kid in foster care certainly didn’t improve her chances of forgetting about her ex-fiancée who wanted to be a mom more than anything.

“She…she wanted kids. She wanted to be a mom—and she’s gonna be a _great_ mom—but I couldn’t do it. I should’ve. I should’ve done it for her. I would’ve done anything for her. But that…that I couldn’t do. I was so stupid. She was perfect, and I let her go.”

“Hey—you did what you had to—you both did, it sounds like. You’re not stupid. It just…it didn’t work.”

She shrugs away from her, dropping her head into her hands, “Maybe. Whatever. That’s not the point. The point is—I don’t want kids. I never— _never_ —wanted kids. Not once. Not when I was a little girl, not when I became an adult, not when I fell in love…not when I…when we…” she shakes her head, “not even for her…” 

“I lost everything because I didn’t want kids—my friends, my…sister. I had a _sister_ , Liv—well, she’s Alex’s sister—but she was gonna be my sister too…” Maggie remembers the first time Kara referred to Maggie as her sister, and a fresh wave of tears spill from her eyes. “She called me so many times, but I couldn’t answer. I should’ve…I should’ve been a better sister…” 

Sweet Kara. So sweet, that even with the break-up—even after Maggie crushed Alex’s heart—Kara called her for weeks. She occasionally wonders what she was going to say, because she never answered. She never meant to hurt the kid, but it was too much then. Now…it was too late.

“I had a home, an amazing job, a fiancée, and a real family for the first time since I was 14…and I lost all of it. But I knew I had to. You can’t compromise on a human being. I never wanted kids, and she wanted to be a mom, and there’s no middle ground there.”

She shakes her head a little, but now it makes her dizzy. She takes a deep breath and gears up to say the thing that’s been the problem for months, “And now…I can’t stop thinking about her.” 

Olivia arches an eyebrow, “Your fiancée?”

Well, that’s true too, at the moment—but that’s not what she meant. That’s not what’s been weighing on her all this time, keeping her awake, making her question every decision she’s made in the last year and a half… “Jamie,” she breathes.

Olivia’s eyes narrow, and Maggie can see the wheels turning. She tries to explain, “I’m not a rookie, you know? I’ve come across kids before. I’ve…I’ve saved kids before. I’ve saved kids from abuse, and fires, and kidnappings. I’ve saved kids from car accidents, and meth labs, and…alien slave trades. Yeah—that’s an actual thing that happened. Don’t ask. 

“I’ve picked up newborns dropped off at church doorsteps, and teenagers trying to get out of gangs, and anything and everything in-between. I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen kids in the exact same situation as hers, and I made it through every time.”

“Wait a second—this…this is about the Palmer case?”

She closes her eyes, and swallows back the next wave of tears that are threatening. When she looks up again, Olivia is still there: confused, but waiting.

Maggie shrugs, “She’s in my head, Ryan. I close my eyes, and I hear her crying my name over and over. I hear it like she’s right in my arms. I feel her fist clutching my shirt. I see those big, green eyes staring up at me, watching me—making sure I don’t move a muscle. Making sure I don’t…” a sob escapes at the last word, “…leave.”

“Ok, hey…” Olivia’s arms are around her in a second, but she can’t stop the sobs. 

“I _left_ her, Olivia. What kind of person does that? I knew what I was doing. I knew how much she was going to hurt, and I…I still left her.”

“We both left her. We had to. That’s our job. Some kids are harder than others. Some kids…handle things better than others. It doesn’t always depend on the level of trauma they were exposed to, they all react differently. They all adapt differently. But Jamie will be fine, in the long run.”

Maggie pulls away slowly, and wipes her eyes, “Three homes.”

“Sorry?”

She clears her throat, “Three homes, Ryan. That’s what Sanchez told me today.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either. Turns out Jamie’s been in three different foster homes since we saw her at the hospital. So she’s not fine. Far from it, in fact. She barely eats, she cries at the drop of a hat, she doesn’t laugh, she won’t talk, she hardly plays…”

“ _Fuck._ Maggie…I’m so sorry.”

“For three months, she’s been living like that—and I let it happen.”

“No, Sawyer. You didn’t let it happen. You did your job. We did what the system tells us to. Yes, this case was different—a little more…difficult—but you didn’t _do_ anything to her. The guy who killed her mother did this to her. This is on him.”

She’s exhausted, and definitely cried out the decent buzz she had going. She leans back on the couch and closes her eyes, “You’re right, I guess…I—I don’t know anymore.”

“Wait—”

Maggie lifts her head, and it suddenly feels about four times too heavy.

Olivia’s voice is hesitant, “Why…why did she call you?”

She stares at her partner, but all she gets back is a blank look. She knows she told her about Alex, about not wanting kids, about Jamie, helpless in the system—then it hits her. She left out the most important part of the story. Apparently she’s more drunk than she thought she was. 

“I think…I told this story out of order.”

“I think I agree with you. Keep going. I’ll piece it together eventually.”

“Ms. Sanchez called me tonight—the social worker from the hospital—she wanted to see if I would be interested in taking Jamie in.”

“She _what_ now?”

She takes a few sips of water, and her head feels slightly less heavy. She starts to remember the conversation that left her speechless in the alley behind the bar, “Oh yeah. She remembers how ‘attached’ Jamie was to me at the hospital, how I could ‘calm her down’ how she ‘took to me.’ Then she said, given the current situation, she thinks it could be a ‘good fit.’” 

She does all the air quotes, even though her tone does it for her, “Those are her words, not mine.”

Olivia snorts, “I assumed.”

Maggie shuts her eyes tight again, hoping it’ll take some pressure of her head, “So…if you take that part, and then…do the whole conversation again. It might make more sense that way.”

She lays down on the couch and closes her eyes, and she almost falls asleep—until a minute later when Olivia’s voice cuts through the quiet apartment, while she puts the pieces together out loud.

“So she wants you to take Jamie. Weird, but ok. The kid was very attached to you. Oh. Except…you don’t want kids. Well, more than that, you _never_ wanted kids. And that’s fine—I totally get it. No judgement here. But _damn,_ Sawyer…you broke off an engagement because you didn’t want kids—to the perfect woman, apparently. My condolences, because that sucks…” she mutters. 

“Except this kid…” Olivia laughs a little, “Sawyer, this kid did something to you that even you can’t explain. You’re still carrying her with you…”

She presses her palms into her eyes, “What am I supposed to do?”

When she opens her eyes, Olivia is standing and throws a blanket over her. She picks up both glasses from the table, “Sleep on it, Maggie. There’s nothing you can do tonight.”

…

The light streaming through the window wakes her up. Her head is pounding, and before she even opens her eyes, she hears Olivia’s voice in the other room.

“I will be there, I promise. … I don’t make promises I can’t keep, right? Right. … I still have two hours. … I love you. … In the laundry room. … Yes they are, look again. … Ok, bye.”

Maggie sits up slowly, and realizes she’s still on the couch where she must’ve fallen asleep the night before. 

Why or how Olivia Ryan is still in her apartment—she’s not totally sure.

“Husband?” she grumbles.

Olivia turns around, startled, and looks guilty, “Oh. Um…son, actually.”

There’s no way Maggie heard that right.

“There’s coffee and donuts.”

She notices the white bakery box on the counter, and slowly shuffles to the kitchen. She takes the hair-tie off her wrist and throws her hair in a ponytail, noticing now that she’s still in her jeans and t-shirt from the night before.

Olivia hands her a mug of coffee and she sits down at the table, grabbing a donut from the box, “You gonna elaborate on that last bit of information, Detective?”

She sits in a chair next to her, “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.”

Maggie doesn’t have the ability to come up with a witty retort, so she just blinks.

Olivia caves, “We’ll talk about me later, ok? Right now I’m more interested in how _you_ feel.”

“Like I was hit by a truck.”

“Driven by Jack Daniels?”

Maggie snorts, “Maybe.”

“How about…everything else?”

She exhales, “I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about. My brain wasn’t doing a lot of thinking between last night and right now.”

Olivia smirks, “Understandable.”

“It’s the right thing to do though, isn’t it?”

Her partner grabs a donut and eats half of it before she speaks again, “There’s no right or wrong answer, Maggie. It might help her, it might not. It might help you, it might not. It could be the best idea in the world—or the worst one.”

She can see where this is headed, “But if I don’t try it, we’ll never know.”

“Maybe?” her partner frowns, “But if you already know it’s not for you, it could make everything worse.”

Maggie didn’t think about it that way. She wants to help Jamie, she really does. But she hasn’t changed her mind about being a parent—if Alex Danvers in all her perfectness couldn’t do it, this little girl she knew for less than 24 hours certainly couldn’t. What if she’s as bad at being a parent as she thinks she will be, and Jamie gets worse? Could she live with that? She doesn’t know.

She puts her head down on the table, “Can we talk about _you_ now?”

Olivia laughs, “Sure. But I promised a little boy that I would be at his basketball game this morning, so how about you come with me. You can see the parenting life up close, I can make sure my partner doesn’t suddenly take up day-drinking, and you can get out of this very sad apartment for a day.”

Maggie smacks her on the arm, “It’s not sad!”

Her partner’s eyebrows go up, “It’s nice—don’t get me wrong—but it’s basically a hotel room.”

She looks around at her apartment. It was pretty nice, but she sees her point. There’s nothing very personal about the place. It could be anyone’s apartment.  It doesn’t feel like home to Maggie either, but she’s not going to give her the satisfaction of being right.

“Let me shower,” she mumbles.

She stands slowly, taking another donut and her mug of coffee with her. 

Olivia is laughing behind her back, “You know, I’ve heard of shower beers, but shower donuts is a new one for me.”

Maggie holds the whole donut in her mouth to free up her hand, and flips her off on her way down the hall. 

…

Showered, dressed, and on her third cup of coffee, they pull up to a local middle school at about 8:30. 

She follows Olivia inside, and the whole place makes her uncomfortable. She knew Olivia was married, but she’s been thinking about it for the past couple hours, and she actually doesn’t know anything else about her personal life. She doesn’t know her husband’s name, his profession, how they met, how long they’ve been married—and she definitely did not know she had a kid. 

Although, until last night, Olivia didn’t know anything about her personal life either. They worked well together the past five months, and Maggie knew she could trust her on the job—but they weren’t friends outside work. 

Early on, they’d hung out at a local bar a couple nights, but Olivia claimed it wasn’t really her scene, and Maggie was grateful to never have to talk her way out of a game of pool again.

As she’s walking down the hall, there are kids and parents everywhere. Three separate times, a kid sees Olivia, waves, and says, “Hi, Mrs. Ryan.” She greets each one by name, gives them a quick hug, and keeps walking.

Maggie feels like she’s hallucinating.

Then a little girl runs up to them, and this time Olivia picks her up easily, “Hey, baby girl!” 

A young boy is on her heels and stops in front of them, crossing his arms, “Sara! You’re not supposed to run away!”

She ruffles his hair and he hugs her too, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, bud. Where’s your dad?”

“Inside. I’m going to get popcorn.”

He walks away, and Maggie notices he’s wearing jeans—definitely not dressed for basketball. The list of questions grows.

Olivia turns around, “Sara, this is Maggie. She’s Mommy’s new partner.”

The little blonde girl says nothing, but Maggie smiles at her.

“Maggie, this is my youngest, Sara.”

She can’t help it, “Youngest of…?” she prompts.

Olivia shrugs, “Four.”

She freezes. Four kids. Her partner has _four_ kids—and she never knew. Never even suspected. If she wasn’t still hungover, she’d be seriously questioning her detective skills. Instead, she just stares.

“Come on, the game’s starting soon,” she puts the little girl on the floor and takes her hand, then looks over her shoulder at Maggie, “Doing ok?”

Maggie furrows her brow, “Who _are_ you?”

Olivia grins.

…

Maggie learns a few things during the basketball game.

First, Olivia’s husband’s name is Pete. He’s a graphic designer who mostly works from home.

Second, they have four children: Henry is 13, Claire and Max are 10-year-old twins, and Sara is four—and very insistent that she’ll be five in nine days.

Third, Olivia is a _fantastic_ mom.

…

After the game, they’re leaning up against the outside of the school, while Pete waits for Henry with other kids outside the locker room. 

“I imagine you have questions.”

Maggie crosses her arms, “Uh, yeah. You could say that.”

Olivia hands back the keys to Maggie’s car that they drove in this morning, “Go ahead.”

Her head is spinning—but not from alcohol this time. She starts with the thing she’s been wondering all morning, “Did I know you had kids and just…forget?”

Olivia laughs, “No, I can’t imagine you did.”

“Do people at the precinct know?”

“Some of them.”

“You never mention them, right? I’m not losing my mind? You’ve never said anything about kids, or parent-teacher conferences, or daycare, or anything like that…”

She’s still not sure. She feels like somehow she forgot. But she’s been wracking her brain, and she can’t think of any slip-ups before this morning.

“No. I never mention them. Or at least—probably not since you’ve been around. Sometimes Helen in reception asks, but that’s usually only when I first show up in the morning.”

“The other cops don’t know?”

She shrugs, “Some do, some don’t.”

“ _Weird…_ ” she still can’t wrap her head around it all.

Olivia looks over her shoulder to wave at another family headed back to their car before she turns to Maggie, “I was only twenty-one when I got pregnant with Henry. You know as well as I do that you can be all _fuck the patriarchy_ as you want, but at the end of the day, me, being the only female cop in that building, babbling about my baby’s first steps and participation trophies, makes me look weak. I learned that lesson pretty quickly.  So I just…stopped talking about them. Now, I rarely even think about it. They’re a separate part of my life.”

“You swear less around them, right? That seems like a thing you should probably do.”

Olivia shoves her lightly, “ _Yes_ , I swear less around them. What kind of mother do you think I am, Sawyer?”

Maggie just blinks, “A really good one.”

They stand in the silence for a few minutes.

“Have you thought any more about Jamie?”

She leans her head back against the brick wall, sighing, “I can’t stop.”

Olivia scrunches up her face, “Anything I can do?”

“Not really. Well…not yet, at least.”

“You’ll let me know if I can?”

“Sure.”

Maggie sees Pete and the kids headed in their direction, and waves. She pulls her car keys from her pocket and  looks up at Olivia, “I’ll see you later, Ryan.”

“See ya Monday, Sawyer.”

…

Maggie spends the rest of her Saturday suddenly noticing kids everywhere she goes—in backseats of cars, in the grocery store, on her way to the gym. She skips her original plan of going to the mall, because she doesn’t think she can take it.

Once she’s back home, she grabs her phone and does what’s recently become her go-to in situations of crisis—he answers on the first ring.

“Maggie! Perfect. I was just about to call you. I need your help—no questions asked.”

She furrows her brow, “Uh…ok?”

“Vegan ice cream: which one tastes the best?”

She cracks up, “Oh my god, Olsen. I thought you got arrested or something. This is about ice cream?”

“Just answer the question!”

She does, and even though he said _no questions asked_ , he elaborates that his trainer suggested changing some of his bad eating habits, and he actually agreed to try a few things. 

She makes idle chit-chat with him through the rest of his grocery store trip—him telling stories about work and life, and her explaining that even though it’s organic, it’s still candy, and it still has sugar in it.

He hangs up to check out, and calls her back from the bluetooth in his car.

“Alright, I need to apologize. You called me, and I took over the conversation with food and my life.”

“That’s alright. Always good to know how life on the West Coast is going.”

“Sun’s still shining.”

“Could you send some of that over here?”

He laughs, “I tried to tell you, Maggie…Gotham sucks.”

“Yeah, thanks. They left that off the brochures.”

“There probably wasn’t any room left after they put that giant picture of Batman on there,” he laughs, “By the way—have you met him yet?”

“I have not.”

“Damn.”

“Why? Two superhero friends aren’t enough? Gotta collect the full set?”

“No, but I’m another week closer to losing twenty bucks.”

She walks over to the fridge and starts pulling out things for dinner, “And what was your bet, Olsen?” 

“Six months.”

She throws some veggies on the counter, “What about the other guy?”

“Fourteen.”

She shuts the door and tilts her head, “That’s…specific.”

“He was an odd dude.”

She laughs lightly, but then the silence fill the space between them. He’s waiting for her, and the sentence she wants to utter more than anything in the world still catches in her throat every time she has to ask it, “Hey James…I…I need your help.”

“Anything.”

“Maybe when you’re not driving though. Call me later?”

His voice suddenly sounds much clearer, and she hears the beep of the car locking, “You’re timing is perfect. I just got home. But I can still call you later if you want.”

“No, now is probably better. I’ll chicken out if I wait any longer. But I’m going to need you to not say anything until I’m done telling this whole story. Can you do that?”

“Promise.”

She grabs a cutting board and knife, puts the phone on speaker, takes a deep breath—and starts talking.

She starts at the top. She talked to him a little after everything with Jamie, but she goes over it in more detail. She talks about finding Jamie, being at the hospital, crying in the stairwell. She tells him about the phone call she got last night, how she stupidly thought she could drown it in whiskey, about Olivia’s advice, and about her inability to get this one little girl out of her head.

By the time she’s piling finished stir fry into a bowl, she’s reached the end of her saga. And except for the few times she checks in to make sure he’s still there, he keeps his promise and says nothing.

She curls up in the chair at the table and exhales, “Alright. Your thoughts. Go.”

He starts careful, “I’m not gonna lie to you, Maggie, I have a lot of mixed feelings about this. But right off the bat, I want you to know that I am your friend, and I love you, and I am here for you—no matter what. Ok?”

She tries not to cry, “I know. Thank you. I love you too.”

“Ok…” he seems to be gathering his thoughts, “First of all, this ice cream is terrible.” 

She rolls her eyes, “ _James_ …”

“Oh, that’s not what we’re talking about? We’re gonna talk about that later though, I promise you.”

His small attempt at lifting the mood works, because she doesn’t feel nearly as close to tears as she did a second ago. Then his voice is quiet, “I think…you could do it.”

“You do?”

“But—”

 _Oh_. She braces herself.

“But only if you’re really ready. Only if you’re serious about this.”

She drops her fork, “I think this is _very_ serious, thus the drinking and the ranting and the phone call.”

He sighs, “No. I know. That’s not exactly how I meant it… Like your partner said, it might work, and it might not. But you’re the adult here. You know—more or less—what you’re getting yourself into. She doesn’t.”

“Where are you going with this, James?”

“You need to make sure you’re not going to give her back the first time things get tough.”

It feels like a slap across the face. He must know, because he can’t see her, but he apologizes anyway.

“Sorry. That was harsh. But Maggie, I had to say it. When you…lose a parent as a kid, you’re broken. You’re broken, and you don’t even know that you’re broken, and you certainly don’t know how to fix it, and you can’t manage your emotions—and for someone that young, I don’t know if it’s better or worse, but it…it can’t be good.”

“You’re right,” she whispers. She forgets sometimes that James lost his father as a kid. She lost her parents too, but not like this. Sometimes she feels like she can relate a little, but she knows it’s not the same.

“You need to make sure you’re in this, all the way. I don’t know anything about two-year-olds, but I can only imagine…you’re gonna need a car seat, and…diapers. Does she wear diapers? What kind of foods can she eat? Does she take naps? Does she sleep in a crib or a bed? Where is she going to go when you’re at work? What about if you get called in at odd hours? What if you— _god_ , Maggie—what if you get hurt on the job? What happens to her then? How long will she be with you? Would you adopt her? What if someone else wants to adopt her? And these are just the things I’ve thought up in the past twenty minutes.”

She can’t even begin to address those questions yet, “I guess it’s my fault for asking the reporter. All you do is question…” she laughs.

He laughs a little, “Right. Still…Maggie, you need to be as sure as you can about this. This is a kid’s _life_ we’re talking about. And I know—I _know_ you mean well. I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt that little girl, but you need to be sure.”

“Can you send me that list of questions?” 

She can hear the laugh in his voice, “Yeah, yeah I’ll email you.”

“Great.”

It’s silent for a minute, and then there’s a loud _thunk_ and she looks down at her phone, “Did you just throw something?”

“Yeah. That ice cream in the trash. That stuff is disgusting.”

She snorts, “You probably ate half of it though…”

“Maybe…”

She laughs and she hears him chuckle.

“Maggie…all those things aside…if you think you can do this, you should.”

Now she’s confused, “After all that—you think I should do it?”

“I do.”

She runs a hand through her hair, and pulls the stack of files on the table closer to herself, flipping open the one on top—the Palmer case. She stares at the photo attached, the same one that she noticed right when they walked in: Jamie, a bit younger, cheek pressed against her mom’s, and both of them laughing. 

She looks nothing like the girl Maggie remembers. She traces over it with her finger and smiles, “Why?”

“Because you clearly can’t stop thinking about her. You care about her. And if that little girl trusts you, maybe you can help her. Maybe right now…maybe you need each other—even if it’s not forever.”

She takes the photo from the folder, moves into the living room and looks around her apparently “sad” apartment. She certainly has the room for her. She even has the time for her. She was in a weirdly perfect time at the precinct where her job was a lot of paperwork and phone calls, and less boots on the ground, line-of-fire type stuff.

“What if I make it worse?”

“If it’s as bad as you say it is, I don’t think it can get much worse, Maggie.”

The thought she’s been trying to keep from herself pops into her head and her voice cracks, “James?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish she was here,” she breathes, “She would be perfect.”

She doesn’t say her name, but she knows he knows. She closes her eyes and the tears fall.

It takes him a moment to respond, “You’re perfect, Maggie. And whatever you decide, it will be ok in the end, for both of you. I love you.”

“Does it make me a hypocrite?”

“Not at all.”

She wipes her eyes, “You’re just saying that…”

“Things change. We can only do our best with the information we have at the time. You made the best decision for you, then—for both of you, in fact. And you’re going to make the best decision for you now, too.”

She nods at his words, then remembers he can’t see her, “Thanks, James. You’re a good friend.”

“You too. Although I’m never trusting you with ice cream ever again.”

“It’s not that bad!” she protests.

“That was horrible. I can’t believe I fell into that trap.”

It’s a lot to think about tonight. She walks down the hall to her bedroom, “Thanks again. I…uh…I’ll talk to you later.”

“I love you, Maggie.”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me like five times, ya big sap.”

He laughs, “Just making sure you heard it.”

“I heard it,” she sits on the corner of the bed, “I love you too.”

* * *

  _“So you decided to do it?”_

_“I did.”_

_They sit in silence for a few beats, then Alex laughs. Maggie grins in her confusion, “What’s so funny?”_

_“That vegan ice cream is so gross.”_

_Maggie shoves her thigh, “It is not!”_

_“I’ve never seen Jamie eat it…”_

_She ignores the implication. “It’s not gross,” she pouts._

_Alex leans over and kisses her shoulder, and her voice is softer, “I’m really glad you had James. I don’t know if I ever told you that.”_

_“You haven’t. But yeah, me too. He’s pretty sage, that guy,” she glances at Alex, and sees the tissues on her lap, “Still have some left, I see.”_

_She shakes her head, “Not many. I never…I never thought about it that way. About you losing your whole family all over again. I’m so stupid. I’m sorry. I—”_

_“It’s not your fault, Alex.” And it's not. The point of the story wasn’t to make Alex feel guilty. She tries to push past that._

_Alex sits up suddenly and grabs her arm, “Oh my God—wait.”_

_She arches an eyebrow, “Yeah?”_

_“That day at the park, you…you apologized to Kara. I had no idea why, but it’s because she called you. After everything, she called you…but you never answered.”_

_She frowns, “Not once. I felt bad, but I…I couldn’t. It was too hard.”_

_Alex frowns. She reaches a hand behind Maggie's head, fingers tangled in her hair. Maggie melts, “Ok, I_ love _that, but you need to keep your hands to yourself or I’m going to fall asleep behind the wheel.”_

_Alex removes her hand, but leans over and plants a kiss on her cheek, “I can drive if you want.”_

_Maggie shakes her head, “No, it’s fine.”_

_“Oh god. More crying?”_

_She laughs, “No, I think you’re fine for a while.”_

_Alex tucks her knees up in the seat and props a pillow between her head and the window, “Wait wait—” she reaches into the backseat and grabs Maggie’s sweatshirt, throwing it over her lap, “Ok, continue…”_

_Maggie grins, “You’re gonna fall asleep, Danvers.”_

_“Will not! Keep going.”_

* * *

 Maggie sets up a meeting with Ms. Sanchez at Child Services the next week. They go over Jamie’s progress—or lack thereof—and her current situation. They go over Maggie’s situation, and what kinds of things she’s going to have to do for this to work. 

“There is a chance this won’t work, and you have to be prepared for that too,” Sanchez says.

“I think I can handle that.”

“Ok…” she says skeptically.

That’s not the part Maggie’s worried about. If it doesn’t work, she gave it a shot—she’ll know she did everything in her power to help that little girl have a better life. 

Indifference is probably not a quality they’re looking for in foster parents, but that’s kind of where she was at. She wanted to do it, she wanted to help Jamie. She also convinced herself that her lack of maternal instincts might actually help in this situation—she could take care of her, and she could give her back.

Plus, she took a lot of time thinking about this. She made a pro/con list. She talked to James again. She talked to Olivia more. She Googled. In a moment of desperation, she came _this close_ to calling Eliza—but quickly decided against it. Instead, she called friends of Olivia’s who were foster parents. It was the better decision.

She was pretty confident she could handle the two-year-old for a little while. She couldn’t do it permanently, and Ms. Sanchez didn’t make her feel bad about that, but she did give her an odd sort of warning.

“If the hospital was any indication, she could get very attached to you for a while. Are you prepared to deal with that?”

 _Wasn’t that the point?_ She’s confused, “…in what way?”

“She might not let you out of her sight, she might not let you put her down. You might need to take off work for a few days, or work from home—is that an option?”

“It is. I’ve talked to my bosses here and in National City, and they’re aware of the situation. Plus, I have a lot of PTO built up, so if it becomes longer than expected, I can handle that too.”

“Ok. And do you have room for her in your apartment?”

“I do. There’s an office that I’ll turn into a bedroom. Detective Ryan has four kids, so she’s offered to help me get everything I need, and she’s happily volunteered to help me with any other parenting concerns.”

“Good. What about childcare?”

“Ryan’s husband works from home and watches their youngest, who’s four. He offered to watch Jamie when I go to work.”

“That’s ok, for now.”

That throws her. She furrows her brow, “For now?”

“At first. It’ll be good for her to get into a routine. But you’re going to have to try to get her to trust other people. Have her to stay with another adult—maybe even overnight. She needs to interact with kids, adults, teachers, strangers at the grocery store. She needs to trust more people in her life. We think that then, she might be able to trust a new set of parents. A new family.”

Maggie raises an eyebrow, “That seems like a lot for a two-year-old.”

“It is,” she admits, “And it’s the perfect outcome, of course—which means it’s pretty unrealistic. But it’s the thing to hope for. Anything in that direction I’d consider an improvement.”

It’s a little more than she planned on, but didn’t seem like anything she couldn’t handle.

“Do you have any concerns? Anything you’re unsure of? Now is the time to ask.”

She wants to say no, but bravado won’t work here. She needs to be honest about her feelings, “Could I…make things worse…for her?”

The older woman pauses for what feels like a long time. Maggie feels the nervousness growing in her stomach.

“There’s always a chance,” she says gently, “but that’s true with anything. If you’re putting her well-being first—and your own, of course, because that’s important too—then I think we can only go forward from here.”

Maggie voices the other thing she can’t stop thinking about, “Do you think she resents me for giving her away the first time?”

She sighs, “You have to stop thinking about it that way. You were doing your job then. There was nothing else for you to do. Now, there is—and you’re doing it.”

She nods, “Except that didn’t answer my question.”

Evelyn Sanchez folds her hands neatly on her desk and considers the question, “It’s not impossible.”

Maggie gulps. This is going to be interesting.

…


	3. Goldfish Crackers and Fruit Snacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie moves in with Maggie.
> 
> ...and I hate coming up with chapter titles, just...FYI.

On the second Saturday in January, Maggie is up at 4AM, unable to go back to sleep, and restlessly pacing through her apartment. Jamie is being dropped off in five hours—and Maggie is terrified. 

She makes herself coffee, then goes through the whole apartment—straightening things that are already straight, cleaning things that are already clean. She stops for a full half hour combing through everything in Jamie’s new room, making sure it’s ok.

Olivia had helped her get everything together. There wasn’t much, but it was comfortable. She’d moved the desk out, and now there was a twin bed, dresser and matching nightstand.

Pete had brought over a blue wooden toy box one day, and Maggie nearly cried when she realized that the kids had filled it with toys and books and stuffed animals to give Jamie. 

But having cute things and a pantry full of goldfish crackers and fruit snacks was one thing, and being entirely responsible for a human being—a traumatized toddler, nonetheless—was totally different.

She showers and gets dressed, and tries to distract herself with work, then a book, then Netflix—and nothing works. At a more reasonable hour, she calls Olivia. A little later, she calls James.

“It’s going to be fine, Sawyer. You’re coming over my house for Sara’s birthday tonight, so I will see you soon. And I’ll help you out all weekend. I promise.”

“Right…right,” she exhales, “You’re sure the car seat is in correctly?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“And her room is fine? What about the bed, because—”

“The bed is fine. They said she doesn’t sleep in a crib.”

“Right. Thanks. I—I’ll see you later.”

“You got this.”

James sounds more awake than she expected, since it’s not even 6AM for him, “Just think of the day you already spent with her. You talked to her, and watched Sesame Street. It’s probably going to be like that. Nothing you can’t handle.”

“What if she hates me?”

“She’ll come around.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Uh…bribe her with candy. Kids like candy.”

“James!”

“Well you can’t bribe her with ice cream, she’ll probably throw that crap back in your face,” he laughs.

She slumps down on the couch, laughing, “I hate you.” 

When she glances at the clock, she realizes she should probably get going, “It’s almost nine. She’s supposed to be here at nine,” she takes a deep breath, “James? It’s going to be ok?”

“It’s going to be ok,” he repeats.

“Thank you.”

“Love you, Maggie.”

“You too.”

Within five minutes, there’s a knock at the door. She takes a deep breath and swings it open. Ms. Sanchez is standing there, with Jamie at her side, clutching her pant leg for dear life. 

She somehow looks smaller than Maggie remembers. Her green eyes are rimmed-red, and her brown hair is pulled into the tiniest ponytail. She’s clutching the little blue blanket that Olivia brought the first night in the hospital—the one from her house.

“Hey, um…come in.”

They walk in slowly, and one of Olivia’s pep talks goes through her head, _Give her space. People love to get close to kids faces and try to amuse them right away—that always made my kids cry. Let her come to you._  

Both of them are looking around the apartment, and Jamie suddenly looks like she’s going to cry again. Maggie kneels down, still a few feet away from her, “Hi, Jamie. Do you remember me? My name’s Maggie.”

The girl blinks and a flicker of something that might be recognition flashes across her eyes. But she doesn’t move, and she doesn’t say anything.

“I can put her things in her room for you.”

Maggie turns her attention to the social worker, nodding, “Sure…thanks. It’s the first door on the left. You’ll see it.”

The woman nods and starts down the hall, Jamie’s eyes following her the whole way, but the rest of her is still.

Maggie’s surprised she’s not crying yet, “You wanna take off your coat? And maybe your shoes?”

The girl’s eyes go down her front, looking at her coat zipper and then her shoes, so Maggie’s pretty sure she understood that. She scoots toward her a little, and Jamie just watches. She takes a chance and reaches out to undo her zipper and slowly, carefully, takes the little girl’s coat, giving her time to move her blanket from one hand to the other in the process.

She smiles at her, “Can I take your shoes?”

The girl’s eyes go down to her shoes, and when Maggie reaches out, she lifts her leg automatically. She pulls off her little purple tennis shoes, and something else Olivia said runs through her mind, I _’m just saying—kids are fun to shop for. Everything is 10x more adorable when it’s that tiny._

She was right. A tiny purple tennis shoe is exponentially more adorable than a larger one. 

She takes the other shoe and places them neatly near the door with her coat. Maggie stands next to her and looks down, “Do you want to see your room?” 

She reaches out a hand, but Jamie shakes her head, “Shoes.”

Maggie furrows her brow, “You want your shoes?”

She points at Maggie, “Shoes.”

Maggie looks down at her own shoes, then up at Jamie—then it clicks. She smiles softly, “Should I take my shoes off too?”

Jamie says nothing, but Maggie takes her shoes off anyway and places them next to Jamie’s by the door. She reaches out her hand again, “Now do you want to see your room?”

The toddler takes a long look at her, but Maggie’s patient. Finally, she reaches up and takes her hand. 

It feels like a big first step.

…

The rest of the day is not terrible, but it’s…new.

Once Ms. Sanchez left, Maggie put away Jamie’s things in her room, and then…she didn’t know what to do.

In her nervousness, she’d skipped breakfast, so she decided to make some—but Jamie wouldn’t eat anything she offered.

She tried showing her some toys, but the little girl wasn’t interested.

Her biggest mistake was turning on the TV. She remembered how much Jamie loved watching Sesame Street at the hospital, so after failing (again) to get Jamie to eat anything at lunch, she decided to put it on.

She regretted it instantly. 

Jamie didn’t stop crying for another half an hour.

After that, she tried reading her a book. It certainly went better than the TV, but she still hadn’t said another word since this morning.

Time _draaaags_. She’s run out of ideas, and she feels like they’ve been staring at each other for hours. Which… they actually kind of have.

When 5:30 rolls around, they have to get ready to leave for Olivia’s, and she forgets about her nervousness with the car seat because she’s excited to have something— _anything_ —productive to do.

…

There’s half a dozen cars outside the Ryan’s house, and Maggie watches from the car as a few people head up the driveway and walk inside.

Jamie’s asleep in her car seat, and it takes Maggie a couple minutes to figure out how to maneuver her out of it. When she gets to the door, she’s greeted by the oldest of the kids.

“Hi, Henry. Do you remember me? I’m Maggie, your mom’s partner.”

“You were at my basketball game,” he opens the door for her, and tilts his head, “You have a baby?”

She wasn’t expecting that, and she falters, “Um…well…”

“Henry!”

He turns around and his mother is striding toward him.

“Maggie! Hey! Henry, your brother is looking for you. He says it’s your turn.”

The boy takes off at a run, and Maggie has rarely been so grateful to see Olivia, “Saved my life again,” she sighs.

She arches an eyebrow, “What are you talking about?”

“He asked if I had a baby and I completely froze,” she sighs.

Olivia snorts, “Sorry. Subtlety comes with age, I guess. Come on in, I’ll take your coats.”

As Jamie sleeps in her arms, Maggie lets Olivia introduce her to her parents, Pete’s parents, and a few siblings and friends. She names kids as they run past—and Maggie just as quickly forgets their names and which adults they belong to.

It’s crowded, but not uncomfortable. After ten minutes, her arms are starting to hurt, so she sits down in the corner of the living room, with Jamie still asleep on her chest.

Pete finds her a few minutes later, and hands her a drink, “How’s it going?”

She looks down at the sleeping girl and grins, “Well, we’ve mostly stared at each other all day. I already made her cry once, I can’t get her to eat anything, and the only thing she’s said to me is ‘shoes.’”

He snorts into his beer, “Shoes?”

She laughs, “Yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

She shakes her head, “It was 9AM. She hasn’t said a word since.”

“But she only cried the once…” he grins.

“True,” she sighs, “I guess it could be worse.”

She takes a sip of her water and Sara runs by with three other little girls following her like ducklings, all giggling. Maggie looks at Pete, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you _do_ with her all day?”

He laughs and rubs the back of his neck, “Uh…she mostly plays—in her room, outside with some of the neighborhood kids, in the backyard. We read. Color. Maybe watch a movie. Sometimes we go to the park or the zoo or something.”

Maggie nods along, that all makes sense. But she lived in an apartment, so there were no other kids. Jamie didn’t seem interested in playing at all anyway. She didn’t enjoy the TV—although maybe it was just Sesame Street. She might have to try the zoo or the park, but it was January and it was freezing. Maybe something indoors.

Jamie stirs on her chest, whimpering, and Maggie wraps her arms around her a little tighter, rubbing her back, “You’re ok, Jamie. I got you.”

The toddler blinks a few times, taking in her strange surroundings. She looks like she might cry again, but then looks up at Maggie and yawns.

Maggie didn’t know a yawn could look that adorable. As out-of-her-element as she feels, a little piece of her heart melts. She brushes some of the hair from Jamie’s eyes, “Hi.”

Then a stampede of kids barrels through the living room. Claire, Max, Henry, and at least four other kids tear through the room, yelling and laughing loudly, wielding Nerf guns and swords.

Jamie clings tight around Maggie’s middle as Pete calls out to the kids, “Take it in the basement you guys!” but she excuses herself anyway.

She shifts Jamie onto her hip, and heads toward the kitchen. Olivia is at the table with both grandmothers, and a woman that Maggie thinks is Pete’s sister, but she honestly can’t remember.

She fills a plate with an assortment of food from the kitchen counter—pizza, salad, fruit—and sits down next to her partner. She sits Jamie on her lap so she’s also facing the table—and the plate—and prays that maybe she’ll finally eat something.

Olivia turns away from her sister-in-law, “How’s it going?”

Jamie is leaning back into her chest, pressed as close as she can get. Maggie ignores the food, and the fact that she’s also hungry, and keeps her arms solidly around the little girl, “Ok, I think?”

Olivia looks at the girl with a smile, then turns back to the conversation. Maggie gets pulled into the discussion as well, and before she knows it, she finds herself listening to family stories and arguments that she can’t always follow, but still laughs along at some of Olivia’s less-than-stellar moments—like the time she forgot to put sugar in all the pies for Thanksgiving.

“Ok, that was _one time_ , and I cannot believe you are giving my partner all this dirt on me. Unfair,” she pouts. 

She walks into the kitchen to grab some snacks, as her sister-in-law starts another story about the time when Pete and Olivia were in college and asked her to send a friend down with booze. Apparently she sent them nonalcoholic beer.

“They had _no_ idea,” she laughs, “I waited and waited, all night, for her to call me and yell at me. She never did. They never realized.”

“Oh my god, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Maggie laughs. Then she looks up at Olivia, “Wait—you and Pete have been together since college?”

“High school, actually,” she grins, “He was my only boyfriend.”

“So when you said you ‘dated this guy once,’ what you really meant was… Pete.”

Olivia blushes and nods, “Yes. Pete.” 

The two grandmothers start talking about the teenage versions of Olivia and Pete, and Maggie kind of tunes it out. Olivia slides back into her seat next to Maggie, looking down at the table in front of her. Maggie follows her gaze, and it’s then that she notices the plate she put down earlier was now missing half a piece of pizza, all of the watermelon, and all of the tomatoes from the salad.

She cranes her neck to glance at Jamie, fist full of watermelon, and what looks like pizza sauce on her nose. She looks back up at Olivia with wide eyes, and she just shrugs.

The rest of the party goes fairly well, except for the moment of singing “Happy Birthday,” when Jamie burst into tears. Maggie couldn’t even hold that against her. It had to be weirdly terrifying for a child to have a room full of people suddenly burst into song. It was still weird—although slightly less terrifying—as an adult.

She ducked into a separate room until Jamie calmed down, and a few minutes later, standing in the kitchen, Jamie uttered the only other word she would say that day, “cake.”

Back at the apartment, she changes the sleepy toddler into pajamas and tucks her into her new bed. Maggie leaves the nightlight on, whispers “goodnight,” and goes back into her own room. 

When she walks out of her bathroom a few minutes later, she nearly screams—Jamie is standing in the middle of the room, in her little polka-dotted pajamas, blue blanket in hand, just… _staring_.

She takes a deep breath, attempting to settle her heart rate, “You’re not going to sleep in your room tonight, are you?”

She’d pretty much assumed that Jamie was not going to answer her, but she’d been talking to her all day as if she might.

“Alright, come on…ya little peanut.”

She’s not sure where the urge to call her that came from, it just slipped out. To her surprise, a small smile appears on the little girl’s face.

Warmth spreads in her chest. She picks her up and puts her on the other side of the bed—but Jamie crawls over, curls into her side, and lays her head down on Maggie’s chest. 

* * *

_“Mama?”_

_The sleepy mumble sounds loud in the car that’s been silent for at least an hour. Maggie glances over her shoulder, but Jamie’s eyes are closed. She’s probably talking in her sleep._

_She’s not really sure when Alex passed out, but eventually she realized she was talking to herself, and she’d started occupying her time watching the mile markers tick higher and higher as they neared the California border._

_“Mama, I have to go to the bathroom.”_

_Apparently Jamie was more awake than Maggie thought. She looks in the rearview mirror and Jamie’s eyes are barely open, “How badly do you have to go?”_

_“Really bad.”_

_“Can you hold it for five more minutes?”_

_She blinks a few times, “I think so. Are we there?”_

_“Not yet. We still have a ways to go.”_

_“How long?”_

_“Probably seven hours.”_

_Jamie groans, “That’s forever!”_

_“Shhh…Alex is sleeping,” she laughs, “And you’ll be asleep for most of it too, so it’ll go fast. I promise.”_

_A few miles down the road she turns into a McDonalds and takes Jamie inside. As she standing there waiting for her, the door opens again and Alex shuffles inside, still looking half asleep._

_“I thought you weren’t gonna fall asleep?” she teases._

_Alex blushes, “I wasn’t. I was…you know…resting my eyes.”_

_“Uh huh,” she smirks, “Sure.”_

_Alex drops her head onto Maggie’s shoulder, and Maggie wraps her arms around her._

_“Need coffee.”_

_“Yeah, me too.”_

_Jamie walks up to them a second later, and smooshes into their sides, “Hold me,” her groggy voice demands._

_Maggie feels Alex grin on her shoulder, and before she can reach for Jamie, Alex does it for her._

_Her heart feels impossibly full. She loves Alex so much—for so many reasons—but seeing her and Jamie together was a different kind of love. Watching their relationship grow still surprised her, but always in a good way._

_Jamie looks asleep almost instantly. They walk back through the restaurant, and she hands Alex the car keys,“I’ll grab the coffee and meet you in the car.”_

_“French fries,” the little voice mumbles._

_Maggie laughs, “I don’t think they have french fries at 3AM. And you probably can’t eat them while you’re asleep, peanut.”_

_Jamie makes a noncommittal grunt, but her eyes are closed._

_Alex tilts her head, “Peanut…”_

_“What?”_

_“That’s the last thing I remember before I fell asleep. You calling her ‘little peanut,’” she smiles, “Adorable—by the way.”_

_Maggie blushes, “Yeah, well…if you’d seen her then, I’m sure you’d have thought of something cuter, but it just popped out.”_

_“It’s perfect.”_

_She shrugs, “It stuck.”_

_When she gets in the car, Jamie is asleep again and Alex is in the driver’s seat, “You should sleep for a few hours, Mags. I didn’t mean to keep you up this whole time.”_

_She sips her coffee and hands the other one to Alex, but shakes her head, “I’m fine. I’ll sleep later.”_

_“Later when?”_

_“When the caffeine from this coffee wears off, probably.”_

_“Stubborn…” Alex scolds._

_“You love it.”_

_“I love you,” Alex corrects, “your stubbornness, however…”_

_Maggie scoffs, “Rude.”_

_“Well if you’re not going to sleep, then you can tell me what happens after ‘little peanut.’”_

_She narrows her eyes, “You insult me, and then you ask for favors? What kind of tactic is that?”_

_“Pleeeease?” Alex puts on her best Danvers Pout, and Maggie regrets the question instantly._

_She tries not to grin—and fails miserably—but rolls her eyes for effect, “Abusing the privilege there, Danvers…”_

_Alex leans over to kiss her, and pulls away looking smug, “What good is having the pout if I can’t abuse it?”_

* * *

 That Sunday goes pretty similar to Saturday. Maggie struggles to fill the day with things to do, because Jamie still won’t talk, or play, or do much besides follow her around the apartment, and climb in her lap at every opportunity.

She’s finally starting to eat, so that’s an improvement, and Maggie’s only been responsible for making her cry one other time—because washing a toddler’s hair without getting soap in their eyes should require some sort of certification.

Turns out, Jamie _does_ like watching TV—but not Sesame Street. Maggie becomes well-versed in a total of two Disney movies that weekend: The Princess and the Frog, and Peter Pan.

She doesn’t remember the latter being quite so offensive as a kid, but since it was one of only two movies that could hold the kid’s attention, she figures that’s a battle for another day. She orders a half a dozen other movies, and hopes to broaden her horizons.

The first week she works from home, and it’s mostly more of the same.

On Tuesday, she takes Jamie to therapy. On Wednesday, Pete watches Jamie for the first time while Maggie does the same. Apparently she cried for the first half hour. He promised it was ok, and she knows he’s probably right, but she still feels guilty.

Thursday, she’s working at the kitchen table, when Jamie suddenly slides off her lap and wanders off down the hall. She has to fight the urge to follow her, assuming it’s probably a good thing that she feels comfortable enough to leave.

She stops working to listen intently, but she can’t hear anything. She waits a full five minutes, and it feels like fifty. 

Tiptoeing down the hall, she peers into Jamie’s bedroom, and finds the little girl sitting in the middle of the floor, holding a stuffed alligator she must’ve pulled out of the toy box. 

As quietly as she can, she slips her phone out of her pocket, takes a picture, then backs down the hall toward the kitchen.

She promptly sends it to James and Olivia, and a weight she didn’t even realize was there feels like it’s been lifted off of her shoulders.

…

The following weekend is better.

Maggie takes her out to run errands, and while she’s been continually talking to her in full sentences, slowly, Jamie starts repeating back words here and there. To her surprise, she even answers _yes_ or _no_ to a few of her questions.

On Sunday night, when Maggie’s making dinner, Jamie walks by and reaches her hand up to the counter. She jumps, immediately pushing the knife away from her fingers and out of her reach, “Jamie! No!”

She didn’t mean to yell at her, she just reacted—and now, apparently, she scared the kid. She can see her expression change, and Maggie picks her up to try and stop her before she cries, “Sorry! I’m sorry, Jamie. You scared me. That knife is sharp. You can’t touch it.” She tries to rephrase that so a two-year-old will understand, “No knife.”

Jamie rubs her eyes, and pouts, “mato.”

Maggie pauses. She furrows her brow, “What?”

“Mato,” she repeats.

She has no clue. She starts scanning the counter to figure out what she could be talking about. There’s a cutting board, a knife, a bowl of chopped potatoes waiting to be cooked, a pan of chicken she’s about to put into the oven…

Jamie points at the bowl of potatoes, “mato!”

That kind of makes sense. She plucks one from the bowl, “Potato?”

Jamie shakes her head in a definitive no. 

Maggie blanks. She’s staring at the counter that’s suddenly become a real-life Where’s Waldo, feeling stupider by the second, as Jamie keeps repeating the word she can’t decipher. 

She grabs the bowl of potatoes and Jamie shakes her head again, and she laughs, “Yeah, I know. You don’t want these. But the water’s boiling, so I’m gonna cook them…if that’s alright with you.”

When she puts the now-empty bowl back on the counter, she sees the bowl behind it with a couple avocados, an onion, and some tomatoes inside. She tilts her head, _maybe…_

She grabs a tomato and turns to Jamie, who lights up and snatches it from Maggie’s hands, “Mato!”

Maggie has no idea how she could see it in the first place, but that was obviously the right answer. She holds out her hand again, “Let me cut it up for you.”

“No!”

She grins. It’ll probably be less fun when Jamie starts getting more demanding, but after a week of silence, it was kind of nice to have her start voicing her opinion.

“Alright…go nuts, kiddo.”

She puts her on the floor, and Jamie sits down at her feet, biting right into the tomato. It’s the weirdest thing she’s probably ever seen a kid do—so she takes a picture and sends it to Olivia: _Normal?_

A second later her phone pings back:  _Definitely not. :)_

Maggie looks down at her, and there is tomato juice and seeds everywhere—on her face, her hands, her hair, the floor, her shirt. Jamie notices too, and she tugs at her shirt, “Uh oh.”

She laughs, “Yeah, you made a mess, but it’s alright. We’ll change your shirt when you’re done.”

“Nooo,” she whines. She pulls at it harder, “Off.”

She kneels down to Jamie’s level and holds out her hand, “Give me the tomato.”

“No.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yes. I need the tomato so I can take your shirt off.”

Jamie stares at her for a few seconds, then reluctantly holds out the tomato. Maggie takes it in one hand, and tries to pull the tiny t-shirt up over her head with her other. It gets a little stuck—and it definitely adds to the tomato in her hair—but they work it out. 

As soon as it’s off, Jamie looks much happier. She reaches her hands back out and Maggie gives the tomato back with a smirk, “Here ya go, weirdo.”

“Tank tew,” Jamie chirps, taking another bite out of it. 

It catches her off-guard—for the first time, that back-and-forth feels…normal. 

Tears spring to her eyes, and she wipes them away hastily. Jamie looks at her like she’s crazy—which, she kind of feels like she is right now. 

“You know…of all the things in my life that have made me cry, ‘baby with a tomato’ is a new one,” she laughs.

Jamie laughs at Maggie laughing, and her heart swells. She swallows hard, trying to temper her feelings, “Oh kid…” she shakes her head a little, “Can we make every day this easy? I promise to keep the tomatoes fully stocked.”

“Mato!” Jamie yells.

Later that night, Maggie gives her a bath and tucks her in her own bed, hoping this is the night she’ll actually sleep there. She reads her a bedtime story, and when she stands to leave, she kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, Jamie,” she whispers.

Halfway to the door, she hears, “Night, Mamie.”

For the next hour—even as she’s cleaning tomato off of nearly every surface in her apartment—she can’t shake the grin from her face.

…

The next morning is undeniably rougher when she has to go back to work. 

She heads to the Ryan house to drop off Jamie and pick up Olivia. The toddler screams when she hands her over to Pete, and Maggie’s heart shatters—flashbacks from the hospital play in her mind all over again.

Olivia has to very nearly drag her from the door, and tries to calm her down in the car, “It’s going to be fine, Sawyer. She’s probably going to cry when you drop her off for a while. That crying is normal. If she doesn’t calm down, he will call you. I promise. She’ll be ok.”

Maggie obsessively checks her phone for the next hour, until Pete sends her a photo of Jamie sitting on the couch with Sara, watching a movie. 

The whole week goes about the same. Jamie cries every time she drops her off, and when they get home, she won’t let Maggie put her down until at least an hour after dinner. She doesn’t talk as much, and Maggie’s worried.

But a month goes by and they get back a bit of the normalcy from that first week. Jamie stops crying when Maggie drops her off,  she starts talking more and laughing more—but only when she’s with Maggie. Pete says occasionally she’ll say a word or two, and Sara can sometimes make her smile, but not often. She still makes Maggie carry her everywhere, and most nights, she still comes into Maggie’s room and falls asleep on top of her.

Both Ms. Sanchez at CPS, and the court-mandated therapist say that Jamie is better.

Maggie nods along, but she has doubts.

…

When March hits, every bit of progress Maggie thought they were making disappears seemingly overnight.

One weekend in the beginning of the month, Jamie wakes up crying. Maggie tries to pick her up, and she screams. She won’t eat breakfast, and she refuses to let Maggie put clothes on her.

Maggie does the only thing she can think of: she kicks the heat in the apartment up a few degrees, and lets the toddler be mostly naked. 

The kid whines and whimpers and pouts her way through the morning, but she won’t let Maggie hold her or attempt to comfort her in any way she can think of.

She pulls every book off of the shelf in her room, takes every single thing out of the toy box, and throws everything on the floor.

Maggie tries to put on a movie, and she cries. She tries to read to her, and Jamie rips the book from her hands and hurls it across the room.

Olivia is out-of-town, and her phone goes to voicemail. 

Her call to James also goes unanswered.

She calls Jamie’s therapist, and is offered a few suggestions, but none of them work.

Around two o’clock, Maggie once again tries to offer her food, and she has a _meltdown_. She flings the bowl of Cheerios across the kitchen, throws herself onto the floor, and wails.

At that point, Maggie gives up. She’s frustrated, she’s exhausted, every single thing she tries to think of fails, she has no one to talk to, no one coming to help, and she doesn’t know what to do anymore.

She leaves the cereal on the floor, goes into her room, and cries. As she’s trying to calm herself down, she realizes Jamie’s crying has also stopped.

Maggie walks into the kitchen to check on her, and finds her asleep on the kitchen floor. She grabs a blanket from the living room and throws it over the naked toddler, then flops onto the couch.

Her phone vibrating under her side makes her get up—it’s James.

She peers into the kitchen, but Jamie is still asleep on the floor. She goes back into her bedroom, and calls him back.

“Hey, Maggie. Sorry. I was—”

She doesn’t let him finish. Tears spring back up in her eyes at the sound of his voice, and even as her own voice cracks, she can’t make herself stop ranting, “I can’t do it, James. Not today. I can’t handle this. She won’t stop crying, she won’t eat, she’s throwing everything—toys, books, an entire bowl of Cheerios. The. Whole. Bowl. All over the kitchen.

“And she won’t let me put clothes on her! It’s still freezing here—it’s _snowing_ today. She cried herself to sleep, naked, in the middle of my kitchen floor, and I let her! That can’t be ok, right? I am not cut out for this. I can’t help her…anymore. Not anymore.”

“Mag—”

“No. Nothing’s changed since she got here—nothing. She barely talks. She eats a little—so ok, that’s changed,” she admits, “But she still won’t leave my side. I can’t put her down. Half the time, she sleeps directly on top of me. She’s crushing me, James—literally and figuratively. I’m _losing it_ , Olsen. I’m done. I can’t…I can’t…” she sobs.

She cries and she can hear him breathing, but for a long time, neither of them speaks.

After a while, he starts, “Maggie?”

“…yeah,” she sniffs.

“Maggie…you’re all she’s got,” his voice is gentle, but firm, “You’re it. You knew things could get tough, and this is tough. But you can’t run.” 

She hates that he’s right, but he is. He’s right. She said she wouldn’t run, she said she would take this seriously. Well…things just got serious.

“I wish I could help you, I do. I wish I could jump through the phone, and be at your side, and make everything better. But…even if I was there, it wouldn’t matter. She needs _you_.”

“I’m not meant for this. I never…I never wanted kids. I don’t know what to do with her. I don’t know how to help her anymore.”

“You’re doing great. You made it a whole month, and this is the first really bad day. That’s pretty impressive.”

“James—there have been no good days.”

“That’s not true. I still have that alligator picture on my phone. That looked like a pretty good day.”

“You’ll notice you haven’t gotten a lot of those since…”

“Maggie—”

She wipes her face on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, “No. If you’re about to give me some pep talk and tell me ‘You can do this’ I’m going to fly to National City just so I can punch you. I mean…probably in the arm—but still as hard as I can…”

He laughs, “Officer, please let the record show that I said no such thing.”

“Not _yet_ …” she warns.

“Did you call Detective Ryan?”

“She’s out of town. Voicemail.”

“What about the therapist?”

“She answered. But her ideas didn’t work.”

“Sorry,” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, too. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m freaking out. Today is…today not good.”

“It’s one bad day, Maggie.”

“What if tomorrow’s the same?”

“Then call me tomorrow and yell at me.”

“I probably should find another outlet,” she mumbles.

“I can take it.”

She hears whimpering in the other room, and rubs her forehead, “I have to go.”

“Maggie?”

“Don’t you dare say it.”

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Liar.”

He laughs, and she does too, “It’s only one day. Tomorrow will be better.”

“I hope you’re right,” she groans, “Bye, James.”

“Bye Maggie.”

…

Tomorrow is not better. It’s more of the same. 

Olivia calls back though. Maggie tries to be more composed than she was with James, and she listens. She asks if Jamie might be sick, and…Maggie has no idea. 

She calls the doctor, and he thinks she sounds fine. Olivia comes over later, and seems to agree with the pediatrician—Jamie doesn’t seem to be physically ill at all.

Monday is her third day of hell. 

She calls her partner to say she’ll be working from home—when in reality, she would love nothing more than to be around adults. But Jamie still refused to put on clothes, and Maggie was pretty sure she couldn’t take her out into public like that…especially when there was snow on the ground.

Tuesday, she still doesn’t go to work. She has to wrestle Jamie into clothes and into the car seat to go to therapy, and she screams the entire way.

The rest of the night goes about the same as the previous three. She’s been pushed well past her limits, and she’s frustrated, and exhausted, and she constantly feels like a failure. She’s in way over her head, and she’s drowning.

Jamie falls asleep on her bedroom floor, surrounded by the toys and books she’d been throwing around for the better part of a week. Maggie learned the first day that wherever Jamie finally passed out was where she slept. If she tried to move her, she woke up, and cried, and the whole process started all over again.

She drags herself to her own room, lays in bed, and stares at the ceiling.

She can’t turn off her brain. She can’t stop thinking that this isn’t working anymore—that it’s only getting worse and not better. 

She grabs her phone and calls James. It’s midnight here, but it’s only 9PM in National City. He answers on the first ring—or at least she thinks he does.

“ _Helloooo_ , James Olsen’s phone. He’s currently getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart so I will have to take a message. May I ask who’s calling?”

* * *

_“Oh—um…you know what…I can skip this part.”_

_Maggie had been so caught up in describing her week of hell, that she forgot how this day ended. Her heart quickens and she tries to keep her voice steady._

_“Wait—oh my god. That was you?!”_

_They’d just passed the California/Oregon border, and after their coffees, both of them were a little more alert—though apparently not as alert as she thought she was._

_“Uh…yep, that was me,” she laughs nervously._

_Alex runs a hand through her hair, “Did I—did I call you…Batman?”_

_She nods, “You did.”_

_“Oh god. I’m embarrassed for myself right now…” Alex laughs._

_“I’ll skip this part. You were there. You know,” she tries to play it off._

_Alex frowns slightly, “No, I mean…if you’re telling me about it, it must be important.”_

_Of course Alex sees right through her. She bites her lip, “Alex, I should skip it,” she says more seriously._

_That makes her look, and her voice gets equally as serious, “Why?”_

_“It doesn’t matter now.”_

_“But it mattered then.”_

_She can’t lie to her, “Yeah. It did.”_

_Alex considers it for a few seconds, “Tell me?”_

_“You’re not going to like it.”_

_But Alex Danvers doesn’t back down from a challenge. She nods a few times, “Tell me anyway. Please?”_

_Maggie takes a few deep breaths…and continues._

* * *

Maggie drops the phone and sits up fast, gasping with short, panicked breaths. She starts fumbling in the dark, searching the space next to her until she finds her phone again, buried in the comforter. She presses it to her ear and tears spill hot down her cheeks.

“Relax James, no one’s even there! It’s…” the familiar voice gets a little distant, like she pulled the phone away, “Gotham PD. The Gotham Police Department? Who’s calling you from—OH MY GOD IS IT BATMAN?!”

Maggie claps her free hand over her mouth to keep the laugh from escaping, even as she’s still crying. 

She hurries to end the call, and chucks her phone across the bedroom for good measure.

She hasn’t heard Alex’s voice in over a year, and she certainly wasn’t prepared for it tonight. She sounded a little tipsy, but in a good way. Mario Kart meant it was probably game night, so they’re probably at Kara’s, and they’re probably having a good time.

Despite their friendship, she never considered that Alex—or any of the Super Friends—would answer James’ phone. She’s now glad he obviously had the foresight to prepare for the situation.

She lays back against the pillows, and her brain spins. The furthest corners of her mind pull thoughts that were buried so deep, Maggie didn’t think they still existed in the first place. But it’s a snowball effect—and once the thoughts start, she can’t make them stop. 

Alex would be a great mom. Jamie would love her. Jamie would be better with someone like her. She would’ve given her a home, and a family—just like she did for Maggie. She wouldn’t have hesitated. Jamie wouldn’t have suffered for three minutes, let alone three months. She wouldn’t be sleeping naked in a pile of books on the floor, that’s for sure.

She can’t do this anymore. She can’t. She tried. She’s given her everything she has—but it’s too much. And somehow…it’s also not enough. 

Jamie deserves better. She deserves someone who knows how to help her, not just tolerate her. Someone who will love her, fully and unconditionally, not like…Maggie didn’t…she really wishes she did…

She cared a lot for her, and she was surprised how much she liked having her around, but in the honesty of the moment, she knows she doesn’t love her.

Alex would _love_ her.

Someone else would love her.

She’s going to call CPS in the morning.

She cries herself to sleep, trying to push Alex Danvers out of her head—and for the first time in nearly a year, she dreams of her ex-fiancée.

* * *

_Maggie stops because Alex is crying again—and because of poor timing, she’s also driving._

_Her heart aches, and she wishes they hadn’t started down this path in the car, where she couldn’t hold Alex and wipe her tears. Where sleep deprivation had hindered her ability to remember that there were going to be difficult parts of this story that she normally would have been more gentle with—or left out entirely._

_“I’m sorry, I should’ve skipped that part,” she says quietly._

_Alex shakes her head, “No. I’m…I said I wanted to know everything…”_

_Maggie wants desperately to hold her, but she can’t. She reaches across and puts both hands on Alex’s arm, squeezing gently,“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t you, Alex. It was…everyone like you. There are so many good people out there who want kids, who would be better parents than me in every single way… You—that phone call—was just a reminder of that. Of how in over my head I was. Of how ill-equipped I was. Of…why we broke up in the first place…why I lost you…and how that reason was now living in my apartment, and I was just so…alone. I was already at such a low point, it just…pulled me down deeper. It wasn’t your fault.”_

_For a long time, Alex says nothing. And though hundreds of apologies and excuses fill her head, Maggie can’t bring herself to say them, because the first one didn’t seem like it helped much._

_Finally, Alex’s voice is quiet, “Can we take a break?”_

_Maggie feels horrible. She feels like she betrayed Alex, like Alex might never forgive her for what she just implied. She swallows back tears, “Yeah. Yeah, we can. I’m so sorry, Al.”_

_“It’s ok. It’s just…a lot. Why don’t you try to sleep a little? You’re gonna be exhausted by the time we get there.”_

_Alex looks at her—eyes somehow…almost…kind—and gives her a small smile that’s Maggie’s pretty sure is just her mind playing tricks on her. There's no way Alex is looking at her kindly right now,_

_“Yeah…I’m not sure I can sleep right now,” she mumbles._

_She was actually way past exhausted, and the combination of fatigue and her own guilt brings tears to her eyes. She tucks the pillow against the window and stares up at the sky. It’s pitch black, and they’re in the middle of nowhere, and the stars are bright and infinite and mesmerizing. She almost wants to wake Jamie up to see it. It reminds her a little of Nebraska. Eventually, she closes her eyes._

_She feels Alex’s fingers gently combing through her hair, “I love you, Maggie Sawyer.”_

_Fresh tears start down her cheeks, but she says nothing. She doesn’t trust her voice, and she doesn’t know which apology to start with anyway. She pretends to be asleep._

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now realize that I've ended every chapter on a sad note, so even thought the next one is still rough and all out of order, I promise that I will not end it sadly. ;)


	4. Mac & Cheesy Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sad ending! Yay!
> 
> Chapter title by the lovely pun master, @theglassesareafacade.

_“Elephant!”_

_“Fox.”_

_“Giraffe.”_

_“Hippo.”_

_“Um…uh…”_

_Maggie blinks awake, and the sun is barely over the horizon. She looks at the dashboard and it’s a little after 5AM._

_“Morning, Mags,” Alex grins._

_“Morning.”_

_Alex glances in the review mirror, “Give up?”_

_“No no no!” Jamie demands, “What letter is it again?”_

_“What comes after H?” Alex prompts._

_“I,” she mutters, “Um…”_

_Maggie turns around in her seat, and Jamie’s face is all scrunched up, “Good morning, sunshine.”_

_“Morning mama,” she smiles, but then she shuts her eyes tight, clearly thinking hard._

_Maggie’s pretty sure she knows the rules of this game already, “Iguana” she whispers._

_Jamie’s eyes pop open and she grins and yells, “Iguana!”_

_Alex laughs, nudging Maggie lightly, “I think you got some help there, little miss…”_

_“Mama’s the helper. You can ask for help too, if you need it,” Jamie adds innocently._

_“Yeah, Alex. I’m the helper,” she says smugly._

_Alex rolls her eyes, but smirks, “Jaguar.”_

_“Kangaroo!”_

_As they finish their game, Alex tries not to need Maggie’s help, but even though she allows Jamie to use “unicorn,” she can’t come up with anything for X._

_Maggie waits, grinning._

_“Alright,” she concedes, “Helper? What’cha got?”_

_Maggie turns to the backseat,“You want to tell her, or should I?”_

_Jamie looks like she’s gonna jump out of her seat, “X-ray fish!”_

_Alex laughs, “I never would have thought of that! You’re too smart for this game. We’re gonna have to make it harder next time…”_

_“Yak!”_

_“Zebra.”_

_“I knew you were gonna say that!”_

_“Well how many animals that start with Z do you know, smarty pants?”_

_“Three.”_

_Alex blinks. She glances over her shoulder, “Three? No way. Prove it.”_

_Jamie does easily, “Zebra, zebra shark, and a zonkey!” the last one makes her crack up._

_“A zonkey cannot be a real animal!”_

_“Yes it is!”_

_Maggie grins, “According to Google, it actually is.”_

_“Ridiculous…” Alex laughs._

_After her giggles subside, Jamie looks at Alex, “I’m hungry. Can we get real breakfast now, Alex?”_

_“I think that’s an excellent idea.”_

_Maggie squints, “Um…hang on…‘real’ breakfast?”_

_Alex not-so-subtly avoids her eye contact, but Jamie throws her under the bus instantly, “We already got donuts. You were asleep, and we didn’t want to wake you up. Alex said it was first breakfast, but second breakfast had to be real food.”_

_Maggie scoffs, “What?! Well did you at least get me a donut too?”_

_“We did…” Alex starts._

_“I ate it,” Jamie giggles, “I was really hungry!”_

_Maggie turns around and tickles her until she’s breathless, “I can’t believe you ate my donut! Betrayed by my own daughter! I guess next time I get to eat your donut,” she teases._

_“Mama, noooo!” she giggles._

_“Then I’m going to need you to pay me back in a million bajillion hugs and kisses.”_

_“Okay, okay…” she laughs._

_Maggie stops tickling her, and waits while she catches her breath, “Wait—you ate two donuts and you’re hungry again?!”_

_“Yes!” Jamie nods, “I think pancakes.”_

_“Oh really?” Maggie pretends to think about that, “Uhh…I think not.”_

_“Aw, man…”_

_“I told you she’d make you eat something without syrup,” Alex grins._

_“Waffles?”_

_Maggie shakes her head, “Nice try. Eggs?”_

_“Borrrr-ing.”_

_“Toast?”_

_“French toast!”_

_“No.”_

_“Bacon?”_

_Maggie smacks Alex for that suggestion, “Not helping!”_

_Jamie beams, “Yes! Yes! Bacon!”_

_“At least she can’t put syrup on it…” Alex smirks._

_Jamie crosses her arms confidently,“I’m gonna put syrup on it.”_

_“No!” Alex and Maggie yell at once._

_…_

_They find a little diner and eat real breakfasts: toast and eggs and potatoes, and yes, bacon—but without syrup._

_On their way out, Jamie sees a park down the street, and even though it’s not quite 7AM, Maggie and Alex let her stretch her legs while they sip coffee on a nearby bench._

_Maggie turns to Alex, slightly nervous, “Al?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Alex looks at her like nothing happened. Like she wasn’t crying a few hours ago, because Maggie told her that hearing her voice made her want to give Jamie away—it was much more complicated than that, of course, but she knew that might have been how it sounded._

_“I’m so sorry about what I said before. I should’ve phrased that better. It wasn’t you.”_

_“I know,” she says easily._

_She raises an eyebrow, “You do?”_

_“You told me last night. Well…this morning. Whatever.”_

_She did, she just didn’t think Alex actually believed her.“I guess…but still. I’m so sorry.”_

_“Mags, you have nothing to apologize for. Come here,” She wraps an arm around her and Maggie leans into her side, even though part of her feels like she should be the one comforting Alex._

_“It hurt to hear, but it’s not my story. I didn’t ask because I thought it would be a fairytale, I asked because I want to know your story. The whole thing—good and bad. This is a huge part of your life, and I just…I want to know more about it.”_

_She blinks the tears from her eyes,“How are you so good at that?”_

_Alex looks down at her, confused, “At what?”_

_“Making me feel better when I…I should feel like crap.”_

_She kisses the top of Maggie’s head, laughing lightly, “You should not feel like crap. Plus it’s my job to always make you feel better. I love you.”_

_“I love you too.”_

_They’re watching Jamie swing her way across the monkey bars, when Alex nudges her gently, “But you didn’t give her back, right?”_

_Maggie snorts, “Obviously.”_

_“I don’t know!” Alex laughs, “So…what made you change your mind?”_

_“Oh…” she thinks back, “The next day…she woke up better.”_

_“That’s it?”_

_“That’s kind of it.”_

* * *

When her alarm goes off, Maggie reaches for her phone and suddenly realizes the weight on her chest. She looks down at her side, and Jamie is curled up, head on her chest, snoring slightly.

She doesn’t remember her coming into her room at all last night.

She can’t reach her phone, but she swats uselessly in the dark until she can finally grab the charging cord and swing the whole thing toward her. She shuts it off quickly and sees four missed calls from James. The guilt in her stomach churns.

Jamie doesn’t wake up to the alarm, so Maggie leans back against the pillows and stares at the ceiling. She hates herself for thinking about giving Jamie away last night, but she also doesn’t know how she’s going to be able to keep going like this. Something has to change.

She carefully slips out from under the toddler and goes to take a shower. With the water running over her, she lets herself cry until she runs out of tears. Then she pulls herself together and tries to prepare herself for the day ahead.

She has to go into work today because her bosses from National City are flying in to check on the progress they’ve made in Gotham. 

She’s not looking forward to battling Jamie like she did to get her to therapy yesterday, so she puts it off until the last possible moment. Showered, dressed, and coffee being made, she quietly walks back into her room. Jamie’s still asleep in the middle of the bed, but Maggie can’t bring herself to wake her up quite yet. 

She sits next to her and begs the still-sleeping toddler for this day to be better, “It doesn’t have to be a great day, kid. Just a good day. Just one good day today, ok? We can do this.” 

Eyes still closed and thumb in her mouth—Jamie grins. 

Maggie smirks. She’s never noticed Jamie smile in her sleep before. It was probably a coincidence, but when the smile fades back into her normal, sleepy face, Maggie tests it again, just for fun.

“You’re going to see Pete and Sara today so that Olivia and I can impress our big bosses.” Halfway through the sentence, the corners of Jamie’s mouth twitch into a grin—even as she still sleeps.

Maggie tries not to laugh, “If you get dressed and eat breakfast without crying, I’ll buy you a pony.” Sure enough, Jamie grins.

Well, at least in her sleep, the kid was going to be tolerable today. When she finally coaxes Jamie into opening her eyes, she doesn’t get a smile—but she doesn’t get tears either. Maggie takes advantage of the moment to change her into clothes, and surprisingly, Jamie doesn’t fight her. 

She carries her into the kitchen like she does most days, and when she’s pouring coffee one-handed, Jamie reaches across the counter, “nana.”

Maggie can’t believe it, “You want a banana?”

She nods, so Maggie sets her at the table with a banana while she makes her own breakfast. The toddler says nothing, just sits there silently, eating the banana—and she’s still not crying. 

Now Maggie wonders if she owes her a pony.

Strapping her into the carseat brings her to tears again, and it feels like the day is spiraling downhill very quickly. Maggie turns the radio up a little to try to ignore the cries and focus on her day ahead. She’s making a mental checklist of things they’re doing today, when she realizes it’s quiet. 

She glances at Jamie in the rearview mirror and the kid is…dancing. Well, as much as a two-year-old strapped into a carseat can dance—kind of wiggling back and forth to the beat. 

Her heart melts. It’s downright adorable. 

She turns the radio up a few more clicks and when she realizes what song is playing, she laughs to herself, “CCR kid? Really? Not my favorite…but it could be worse, I guess.”

They make it to Olivia’s house with no more tears, and Pete greets them at the door, “Morning. Liv’s running a little late. Coffee?”

“Sure.”

They walk in and he frowns at her slightly, “Heard it’s been a rough week. How’re holding up?”

“Uh…not great. Last night was a low point,” she admits. Not that she’s going to tell him that she was emotionally shattered by hearing her ex-fiancée’s voice, or that she can’t do this anymore, and she has to give Jamie to someone better—someone more qualified for…well, whatever this was.

“And today?”

“Actually…not terrible,” the answer pops into her head surprises her, but it’s true. It was better this morning. 

Olivia runs down the stairs a second later, hair still damp, no makeup on, “Sawyer! I’m sorry. I’ll be ready in like…five minutes. Ten, tops. We have to see that guy today, right? Ugh…I’m gonna look like an idiot in front of our bosses. How do you say it? Stove…Staj…”

“Stajsovljevich.”

Pete’s eyebrows go up, and Olivia grabs the mug of coffee from his hands and kisses his cheek. “She can spell it too,” she adds with a wink.

Maggie rolls her eyes, “Hurry up, Ryan.”

She runs back up the stairs, and Pete pours two new mugs of coffee from the pot.

Maggie suddenly notices it’s quieter than usual, “Where’s Sara?”

“Oh, she’s at my sister’s house. Liv and I had a date night last night, so no kids this morning.”

She frowns, “Except this one. Sorry.”

Pete shakes his head, “Nah. That one? We’re best buds,” he reaches his arms out to Jamie on her hip, “Come here, kiddo.”

To Maggie’s shock, Jamie reaches her arms out and goes to him easily.

Pete beams, “See? Best buds.”

Maggie doesn’t know what to say. She thinks she might be dreaming. 

Olivia rounds the corner a few minutes later and freezes beside her, “Holy shit.”

“Language!” Pete and Maggie scold in unison.

She laughs, “Sorry! But seriously…that’s new, right? I’ve not seen that yet.”

“Best buds,” she whispers. Maggie can’t believe it either.

Olivia looks confused. She kisses her husband quickly and grins at Jamie, “Bye, babe. Bye, baby. Let’s go, Sawyer.”

Maggie backs down the hall slowly, still in a bit of a daze, as Pete whispers, “Say bye to Maggie.”

One hand on the door, she hears the tiniest voice mumble, “Bye, Mamie.”

It stops her dead in her tracks. She turns around, to see Jamie just…staring. 

Maybe she’s hearing things.

…

They spend the morning in meetings at Gotham University, sitting in with all the professors and going over the upcoming course schedule for the trainees.

The entire afternoon is spent at the warehouse, watching hands-on training and doing one-on-one interviews with the new science division officers.

Around six, they think they’re about to go home, and then suddenly, they’re not.

“I’d like to discuss a few more things over dinner.”

Neither Maggie nor Olivia is going to say no to the Assistant Chief of Police. 

…

By ten that night, she’s finally back in her apartment. 

She realizes when she walks in that the place looks like it was hit by a tornado. Which, it was. A tornado in the shape of a two-year-old.

Jamie’s already asleep, so she puts her to bed. Then she calls James, because she’s now up to double-digits in missed calls.

“I was starting to think I wouldn’t hear from you again.”

His voice is cold, and she didn’t expect that—but maybe she should’ve.

“I’m sorry. I was…afraid, this morning. But the rest of the day I was just busy. I promise. My bosses were here from National City, and I just got home.”

He sighs, “No…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t think—well, that’s it, really. I didn’t think.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Kinda feels like it.”

She starts cleaning up a little as a distraction from the heavy conversation, picking up all the toys and books and everything else Jamie’s been throwing around her apartment all week, “It’s not. I promise. It’s…no one’s fault. I didn’t think she would answer. You didn’t think I would call. She…she didn’t know it was me. She didn’t—right?”

“She still doesn’t.”

Maggie nods, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

They’re both quiet for a few seconds, “So…you got your ass handed to you in Mario Kart again?” she can hear him laugh, “It’s really not your game, Olsen. Stick to Catan. You can settle the crap out of that village, but your driving skills leave something to be desired.”

“Hey! I’m a great driver!” he protests.

“You are,” she agrees, “But not in the virtual world.”

“Fair enough. I lost to Kara last night.”

“Wow. That’s…that’s a new low,” she snorts.

“Thank you. Very kind.”

She laughs, “Truth hurts.”

When their laughter fades, his voice is hesitant, “So…yesterday was another bad day?”

She slumps onto the couch, “It was the _worst_ day, James.”

“What are you going to do?”

She almost doesn’t tell him, “I…I was gonna give her back,” she admits.

“You _what_?”

“I know—I _know_ …I said it was the worst day! I didn’t, by the way. She’s here. She’s asleep in her room.”

“Good. Well…ok. And I’m sorry it sucks lately, Maggie. But, for the record, I would’ve kicked your ass if you gave her away before I got to meet her.”

She grins, “You’ve met her!”

“Not in person! I’ve only seen her through the phone, and that’s not the same.”

“Well we’re not going anywhere.”

“I know. I keep trying to get away, but it’s been crazy here. Soon, I promise.”

“Not soon enough.”

She wishes he was here. He says he’s not great with kids either, but at least she’d have someone to talk to. She has Olivia, but Olivia has her own family, and Maggie hates bothering her. She doesn’t feel like she’s bothering James.

“I’m looking at my calendar now. What about…the first week of May?”

She groans, “That’s so far away!”

“It’ll be here before you know it.”

She does the math in her head, “Six more weeks of this? James, seriously, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can.”

She’s not sure, “Not if it stays like this. I’m gonna lose it.”

“That bad again today?”

Maggie stops. No. It wasn’t. She tells him as much.

“Maybe it’s a turning point?”

“Your lips to god’s ears, Olsen. Any god—I’m not playing favorites at this point.”

“Anything good happen today?”

Maggie tells him about Jamie smiling in her sleep, and voluntarily eating something, dancing in the car, and how she went to Pete easily, and…maybe she said goodbye?—she’s still not sure on that one. 

And by the time she’s done, she suddenly realizes Jamie hasn’t done any of those thing—except for eating, obviously—since she’s had her. 

“Huh,” she mumbles.

“What?”

She didn’t realize she said that out loud, “Oh—it’s nothing.”

“Maggie…”

“I just…I realized she’s never done that before.”

“Done what?”

“Smiled in her sleep, or…danced,” she laughs at the memory, “If you can call it dancing… Any of those things, really.”

She can hear the grin in his voice, “That sounds like progress.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Looking around, the apartment is still a mess, but…she notices it’s not sad anymore. If anything, it’s exploding with life. It certainly doesn’t look like a hotel room. Nearly everything that belonged to Jamie was more colorful than anything that belonged to Maggie. Every corner of the room, and table top, and shelf was splashed with color, and it almost looks…like a home. 

Like Maggie’s home. And Jamie’s.

“So…May? You promise?”

“I’m marking it down right now. The whole week.”

“I’m not sure there’s enough in Gotham to fill a week,” she laughs.

“There will be if you introduce me to Batman…”

“Unlikely.”

* * *

_“A banana and CCR. Now I know the keys to your heart, Mags.”_

_Maggie laughs, “Yes. I’ve been meaning to tell you—no more flowers or chocolates, just bananas and ‘Fortunate Son.’”_

_“Hey, that’s about as romantic as tiramisu and scotch,” Alex laughs._

_She gasps and takes Alex’s face in her hands, watching her eyes go wide, “Don’t even think about it, Danvers. Don’t you dare take away my tiramisu and scotch.”_

_Alex grins and kisses her slow, “Never. I promise.”_

_She kisses her again while they have a moment to themselves. When she sees the time on her watch, she calls over her shoulder, “Jamie Grace! You have five minutes, and then we gotta go!”_

_“Noooo. Ten minutes!”_

_“Five minutes.”_

_“Eight minutes.”_

_“Four minutes.”_

_“Okay okay! Five more minutes!”_

_Alex smirks, “Mean mama…” she teases._

_“I know.”_

_Alex kisses her cheek, “You are not. You’re a good mama. A great one, actually.”_

_“Thanks,” she blushes. It’s still new having Alex say that to her so often._

_“Oh! Speaking of…so you kind of told me how that happened. How she started calling you mama, but what happened in between all of that? How did you go from nearly giving her away to…that?”_

_She considers it, “I…don’t know, really.”_

_“Come on, you can’t leave me hanging! There’s more to this story. There has to be.”_

_Maggie shrugs, “I remember a lot of moments that from that first year, but I don’t remember ever thinking, ‘This is it. It’s permanent. She’s mine now’—until I signed the papers, of course. That was pretty definitive.”_

_Alex considers that for a long time, “I guess…” she smiles softly, “It’s…something like love—or falling in love.”_

_She tucks a piece of Maggie’s hair behind her ear, and her stomach flips. She’s not sure how something she does a thousand times a day feels so intimate when Alex does it, but she hopes she never stops._

_“You fell in love with her.”_

_Maggie watches Jamie on the swing, pumping her little legs, trying to will herself higher and higher. She always tells Maggie that she wants to go high enough to flip all the way over—even though Maggie’s tried more than once to tell her it doesn’t really work that way._

_She grins, “Yeah, I guess you could say I fell in love with her.”_

_Alex puts her head on Maggie’s shoulder, “Can I tell you a secret?”_

_Maggie grins at the way she says it—at the realization that they’re actually sharing secrets on the playground like a couple of kids, “Always.”_

_Alex laces her fingers through Maggie’s, “I fell in love with her too.”_

_Maggie swallows hard, but she says nothing. She doesn’t know if she can without crying. She knew Alex loved Jamie—she told her all the time. But hearing her say it like that was…different._

_If she ever gets done telling this story, she’ll make Alex tell her hers._

_For a while, neither of them say anything._

_Alex finds her voice first—but just barely, “It’s been five minutes…”_

_Maggie checks her watch, “I think we can wait five more.”_

_“Five more…” Alex mumbles to herself, “Hey, Mags?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Five more.”_

_She’s doesn’t follow. Alex sits up and faces her, giving her a small smile._

_“There’s only like five more months from the banana incident to adopting her. Will you tell me the rest?”_

_Maggie laughs, “The banana incident? Is that what you’re calling it now?”_

_“I think it is. Yeah,” she grins._

_“Nerd.”_

_“Come on. Please?”_

_Maggie sighs, “I love you, Alex, and I will tell you everything. But can it wait? My brain is tired.”_

_“Ple—”_

_“No!” She jumps up suddenly, and points at Alex’s now-shocked face, “Don’t give me the pouty face! That is cheating and I will not stand for it!”_

_Alex gets a devious look in her eye, and Maggie grins and runs toward the jungle gym, “Jamie! Save me!”_

_Her daughter looks confused, but is more than happy to join in whatever game Maggie’s decided to play. She pops up from the top of the slide, “I’ll save you! I’ll save you!”_

_Maggie scrambles up the stairs and sees Alex walking toward them slowly, shaking her head. She winks at her, then ducks out of her sight._

_She turns to Jamie, “Alright, we need a plan. We have to get back to the car, but Alex has the keys. And if I see Alex’s Mega Supersonic Pouty Face, then I’m gonna turn into a puddle of mush, and we’ll be stuck here forever.”_

_Jamie has no idea how true to life that story actually is, despite how ridiculous she just made it sound._

_The five-year-old puffs her chest out a little, “I’ll do it! I can get the keys!”_

_“Phew. Good. Are you sure you’re up for it? Her pouty face has taken down a lot of brave soldiers…” she warns._

_“I can do it!” she jumps._

_Maggie grins—she wants to squeeze her into a hug, but she won’t right now, “Ok. We need a way to keep her from making a sad face. Do you have any ideas?”_

_“Oh I know!”_

_“Shhh!” Maggie can see Alex walking closer, circling the jungle gym, unsure of exactly what to do next, “Whisper it in my ear.”_

_So Jamie does, “I’ll tickle her!”_

_Maggie grins, “That is a_ perfect _idea. You do that, and then when I’m sure she won’t be able to make a sad face, I’ll sneak up and snatch the keys out of her pocket. Sound good?”_

_“Yes!” But then Jamie stops and frowns, “Mama?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Do you know where Alex is ticklish at?”_

_Indeed she does. She hopes Jamie will not ask any follow-up questions, “Hmm…you should tickle both of her sides, right—” she pokes both of Jamie’s sides and watches her dissolve into giggles, “right there,” she grins. “And if you can reach high enough, you can tickle her neck right…” she reaches a hand up under her chin, but Jamie throws both hands quickly over her neck._

_“No! No! I know where her neck is!” she collapses into giggles again—even though Maggie hadn’t even touched her yet._

_“Alright. Then on the count of three, you go first. I’ll be right behind you a few seconds later.”_

_Alex is slowly making her way around to the other side, and Maggie counts to three. Jamie takes off down the slide and starts chasing Alex toward the monkey bars._

_Maggie’s pretty sure Alex lets Jamie catch up, but she’s equally as sure that Alex had no idea Jamie was going to tickle her, because a second later, she shrieks and tries to run away, but Jamie is persistent._

_She hops down the little ladder, and sneaks over to where Jamie currently has an arm wrapped around Alex’s leg, and her other hand desperately attempting to tickle her, even while Alex is clearly winning the battle._

_Maggie tries to say behind them as best she can so Alex won’t see her, but just as she’s about to reach into her pocket, a hand is quick and tight around her wrist._

_“Nice try, Sawyer…”_

_“Mama! Runnnn!” Jamie yells._

_She would love to, but she actually can’t. She tries to reach into her pocket with her right hand, but Alex spins around so she misses. She wraps her free arm around Alex’s middle, and pins one of her arms to her sides. Jamie takes advantage and tickles her. Alex wiggles underneath her arm, and Maggie can feel her trying to catch her breath between laughs, until eventually the grip on her wrist loosens._

_As soon as she’s free, she grabs the keys out of the pocket of Alex’s jacket quickly, and then sprints a full 10 yards before turning around, “I got the keys, Jamie. Run!”_

_Jamie does, but Alex is right behind her, “You’re not getting away that easy, little one…” she teases._

_She takes off up the little rock climbing wall, and Alex playfully grabs at her ankle—but Jamie kicks, and Maggie sees Alex step back suddenly. Even from halfway across the park, she can tell that didn’t look like part of the game._

_Maggie runs back to her side, and Jamie takes off, still giggling, still unaware that the game is no longer fun._

_“Alex, what happened?”_

_Alex bites down on her lip, shaking her head and blinking back tears, “Nothing. I’m fine. It’s…fine. We were just playing…”_

_Maggie takes her face in her hands gently, “I know, but you’re hurt. What happened?”_

_Slowly, she holds out her right hand, and it’s shaking. Her pinky finger is already swelling and turning purple, and Maggie winces. She tries to stay calm, “We should go to a hospital. That looks broken.”_

_Alex takes a few deep breaths, but shakes her head, “No. It’s fine. It’s…I don’t think it’s broken, but I think it’s jammed. Maybe dislocated? Right now it just…fucking hurts.”_

_Tears spill down her cheeks and Maggie kisses her forehead, “Alright. Breathe,” she does, “Tell me what you need.”_

_“Mama?”_

_She turns around to see Jamie behind her, looking like she’s also on the verge of tears, “Hey, peanut.”_

_“Did…did I do that? I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry—” she whimpers._

_Maggie’s torn between Alex—who’s standing there with actual nearly-broken bones—and Jamie—who looks just as hurt, even while Maggie knows she’s physically fine—and both break her heart._

_Alex kneels down, “Come here, Jamie.”_

_Jamie looks up at Maggie, and she gives her a small nod. She shuffles forward and Alex hugs her with her one still fully-functional hand, “It’s ok. It was just an accident.”_

_“But I broke it?” she sniffs._

_Alex shakes her head, “Nah. I’m gonna be fine. You’ll see. By the time we get to the hotel, I’ll be good as new.”_

_Maggie arches an eyebrow at her, “Good as new, Alex?” She’s fine with her trying to make Jamie feel better, but she won’t let her lie to her—even when she knows how innocent her intentions are._

_She nods, “Right…I probably won’t be good as new_ that _quickly. You’re mama is right,” she admits, “But I promise you I’m fine.”_

_Jamie still won’t look her in the eye, and her voice is barely above a whisper, “Are you mad at me?”_

_Alex wraps her arm around Jamie tighter and scoops her up. Jamie buries her head in Alex’s neck, but she’s staring at her injured hand._

_“No, no, no. Of course I’m not mad at you. It was an accident. Accidents happen. I_ love _you, Jamie, and I’m going to love you forever, no matter what.”_

_Maggie catches her eye, and part of her thinks she should call her out on that too—that’s a big promise—but she can’t make herself do it…because she knows Alex is telling the truth._

_They could break up today, and Alex would love Jamie forever—Maggie was sure of it._

_Jamie pulls back slightly and wipes her eyes, “I love you too, Alex.”_

_Alex grins and kisses Jamie on the cheek, and Maggie is overwhelmed._

_She gives them a moment before she interrupts—and it takes her the whole moment to find her voice again, “Alright Dr. Danvers, how are we going to fix you up?”_

_“First—ice.”_

_…_

_Finger taped and iced, and everyone’s tears dry, they’re finally back on the road by about 8:30._

_Maggie drives, and in less than an hour, Jamie’s asleep again. Alex let her watch a movie on her phone, but she didn’t make it very far. She reaches around to the backseat to grab it from sliding off her lap, and gently takes the headphones off of Jamie’s ears._

_When she turns back around, Maggie knows what’s coming before she even says it._

_She looks over, and Alex isn’t pouting, exactly…but her eyes are big and her face is kind—and Maggie is helpless against just about anything she asks for anyway, “You’re shameless.”_

_“But it’ll make me feel better…” and now, she pouts._

_Maggie reaches a hand onto her face and gently pushes her away, “I think that pout is what got us into trouble in the first place…”_

_“You might have a point,” Alex laughs._

_“You’re lucky you’re cute...”_

* * *

April is better. Jamie starts talking more and that seems to make the tantrums happen less. She’s better at asking for what she wants before breaking down into tears. 

Then right before Easter—after nearly three weeks of good days—Maggie has the worst kind of day.

There’s an alien attack downtown, so she leads a team of their new science division recruits to the front lines. They’ve made it through most of their training, and now it was the hands-on learning part of the process—which, unfortunately, meant a lot of mistakes.

One of those mistakes is the trainee who doesn’t turn around, and therefore doesn’t see the alien who suddenly gets a clean shot. She pulls him out of the way at the last second, but pain rips through her abdomen and she blacks out.

Maggie wakes up in the back of an ambulance, with a searing pain on her lower left side, and what smells unmistakably like burning flesh. She’s pretty sure it’s her own, and when she opens her eyes and looks down, she can see the burn mark that trails a straight line from her left shoulder down to her waist. 

Her bulletproof vest took the brunt of the attack, but the sliver of her that was exposed from where her vest ends just above her belt is not bleeding—but her skin is badly burnt.

“This is gonna hurt,” the paramedic warns.

And _fuck_ —it does. Whatever he pours on the cloth that he presses into her side burns hotter than she can take. She screams—but the next time she wakes up, it’s in a hospital bed.

She can hear muttering and the faint sounds of beeping, but her eyelids are heavy and her stomach feels like someone stuck a branding iron into it—which she suddenly remembers—is more or less what happened.

But she’s not moving anymore, so she’s not in the ambulance. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and bring everything into focus. It takes even longer for her to consider that the image in front of her is not a dream.

“James?” she croaks.

She can see the grin on his face, but it disappears quickly, “No, no. You can’t go over there,” he whispers gently, “She’s got a big booboo.” His arms flinch slightly, and she can tell it’s taking more strength than he thought it would to hold Jamie onto his lap.

Jamie looks between Maggie and James with a big frown, “Mama booboo?”

 _Drugs_ , she immediately thinks. It has to be the drugs. There’s no other explanation. How James is here. How Jamie is sitting in his lap like it’s totally normal. She’s pretty sure she _also_ just called her “mama,” and that’s never happened before. 

She must be on a lot of painkillers.

Or she hit her head when she fell.

She struggles to sit up, even as she hears James’ protests, but she ignores him. She closes her eyes again, pressing her palms into them for a few seconds. When she opens them, they’re both staring at her.

“Maggie? Are you ok?”

“Mamieee,” Jamie whines.

Ok, that was definitely not “mama.” At least she’s not totally losing it.

“Hey, peanut. Come here,” she tries to reach out her arms, but the pain in her side keeps her from lifting the left one nearly at all.

James shakes his head, “This is a bad idea… But hang on, I got her.” He grabs Jamie under her arms, and lifts her easily on the bed, “Be very gentle, Jamie.”

She looks at him like if she was a little older, she would’ve said “ _duh_ ,” and rolled her eyes. 

Maggie snorts—until she realizes how much that hurts too. Her laughter fades quickly. 

Jamie curls up on her right side and puts her head on her chest. Maggie leans back onto the pillows, trying to relax. 

“How do you feel?”

She doesn’t open her eyes. She lets the familiar warmth and pressure from Jamie’s head on her chest ground her. It briefly takes her mind off of the pain on the other side of her body, “Better now.”

“She’s been asking for you for hours.”

That’s cute. She smiles at the thought. But then his words hit her again, and she opens her eyes, “How long have I been out?”

“Uh…” he rubs his face and checks his watch, “I’ve been here for about four hours, and you’ve been here for at least seven.”

She tilts her head, “Why—how? How are you even here?”

“I’m your emergency contact,” he laughs, “Nice of you to remember.”

Right. She forgot about that. She didn’t have anyone to put down, and she vaguely remembers asking him if she could use his number—although not once did she think they’d ever call it.

“Where’s Ryan?”

“Here somewhere. About an hour after I got here, she brought Jamie. She’s been on and off the phone. I’m sure she’ll show up soon.”

“How did you get here so quick—” she sits up suddenly, wincing at the pain, “You didn’t… _she_ didn’t—”

He puts a hand on her arm, and holds her back down, “No, of course not!” When she lays back down, he shrugs one shoulder, “Um…he did though…”

“James…” she groans.

“He doesn’t know why! He doesn’t know you’re here. I promise. Not that it would be such a bad thing…” he scoffs.

“We talked about this.”

“I know,” he sighs. “But I hate keeping secrets from everyone. We’re all adults, Maggie. They’re not going to stalk you or anything.”

“No, of course not.” That was never what she worried about, “But I left to start over, and it’s not really a fresh start if I have to keep carrying around all the baggage I’m trying to leave behind.”

She doesn’t mention how much it hurt to hear Alex’s voice again just a month ago, because he’s already apologized for that enough—even after she insisted it wasn’t his fault. She can only imagine how painful it would be to hear from any of them again. More reminders of the whole life she had, the love that she had—both romantic and platonic—it was still too much. 

He looks pointedly at Jamie on her side, “You don’t think…maybe things have changed?”

She bites her lip. Of course things have changed. Things were always changing. She looks down at Jamie, and her eyes are open, but she hasn’t moved since he put her at her side. She kisses the top of her head and watches as a small smile immediately shows up on her face. 

The thought that pops into her head is one she’s been afraid to say out loud, because she knows she’s not going to be around forever. But whether it’s the pain, or the painkillers, or whatever—right then, she knows. 

She knows that she loves that little girl more than she ever thought she could—which is why she also knows she’s better off with a real family and real parents who know what they’re doing.

“Nothing’s changed,” she whispers.

The hurt on his face matches the pain in her chest—but not from her injuries, from the thought of Jamie not being around anymore.

The doctor walks in, and James stands up to give him room. 

“Good to see you’re awake, Detective.”

“Good to be awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better.”

“I sure hope so,” he muses. He flips through her chart, “Although according to this, not very often…”

No shit. She’s a police officer—she also happens to occasionally fight aliens and other-worldly beings. So yeah, she gets hurt. She tries not to roll her eyes, “Hazard of the job.”

“Right…” He looks down at Jamie and frowns, “Maybe be a little more careful next time?”

James stares at the guy like he’d like to slap him upside the head. Maggie wishes he would. She narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

“Careful? If she were more careful, you’d have an officer’s body in your morgue right now instead of that band-aid on her stomach.”

Maggie, James and the doctor all look to the doorway, where Olivia is standing there with a smug look.

The doctor flushes a few shades of red, and when he turns back around, Olivia flips him off behind his back. Maggie has to close her eyes to keep from laughing.

The doctor clears his throat and she opens them again, “Right…well Detective, you have a burn on your lower left abdomen, obviously. Thankfully, you’re vest took most of the hit or you might not be awake right now. The burn is pretty deep, but it didn’t hit any major organs—although the muscle and skin tissue will take a lot of time to heal.”

“When can I go home?”

“Tomorrow, probably. But you can’t do any heavy lifting for four weeks.”

“Oooh, desk duty, Sawyer. That’s a bummer.”

She glares at her partner, and gets a smirk in response. She turns her attention to the doctor, “How heavy is heavy?”

“No more than five pounds.”

She gapes, “Five pounds? That’s not heavy lifting, that’s just…lifting. What am I supposed to do for four weeks?”

The doctor shrugs, “You need to heal, and it’s going to take time. That part of your abdomen is tied to a lot of movement. You’re going to be in a lot of pain, and lifting anything is going to make it worse—it’ll make the healing go slower.”

She groans and shuts her eyes. This _sucks_. 

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.”

He ducks out of the room, and Olivia walks over to the foot of the bed, frowning, “Sorry, Sawyer.”

“You are not. You hate paperwork, and now you’re going to make me do all of it.”

Olivia laughs, “Um…that…does sound like something I might do, yes.”

Maggie laughs even while she wants to cry, “Four weeks?” She can’t do that. She’ll lose her mind. “I think I can be back in two.”

James crosses his arms, “No.”

She rolls her eyes, “What are you gonna do about it, Olsen? You won’t even be here.”

He looks smug, “Oh yes I will. While you were taking a nap, I cleared my schedule. I’ll be here all week.”

She’s actually really happy about having him around sooner than expected, but not about being treated like an invalid for a week, “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Olivia tilts her head, “Besides, even if he wasn’t here, I would still be here.”

“Ugh…I _know_. But now there’s two of you, and that’s so much worse.”

…

That first week is some kind of torture. The doctor might’ve been an asshole, but he wasn’t lying—it hurt almost all of the time. It hurt to walk, to laugh, to stand up or sit down—basically any time she moved.

She also couldn’t lift Jamie, which was proving to be difficult. All the kid wanted to do was be held. And more than once, Maggie made her cry because she accidentally bumped into her side, and Maggie couldn’t help but yelp as the pain radiated through her whole body.

Luckily, James was around, and he was trying his best to help her out.

A few good things come from that week too. James embraced being Uncle Jimmy, and Jamie started to trust him almost as much as she trusted Maggie. Jamie learned to be a little less clingy, because Maggie simply couldn’t hold her, even when she wanted to. And Maggie realized just how much she’d learned about taking care of Jamie, because coaching James through the week gave her hundreds of opportunities to explain everything she now knew about the little girl.

The biggest change though, was that Maggie started telling Jamie she loved her.

She was partially making up for the fact she couldn’t hold her, and she’d never admit it, but… _maybe_ …she was a little jealous of how close she was getting to James. After a few days, Jamie would go to him first because she knew Maggie wouldn’t pick her up.

It was adorable—and a little heartbreaking.

Towards the end of the week, James goes out so he can catch up on some work, and Maggie is making Jamie mac n’ cheese at the stove. Jamie walks up to her and reaches her arms up, but Maggie shakes her head, “Sorry, kid. I can’t.”

Jamie pouts, so she slides a chair over from the kitchen table and helps her climb up so she can stand next to her. Jamie wraps an arm around her leg and stands at her side, just watching her silently. 

As Maggie scoops some noodles into a bowl for her, she hears her little voice, “Mamie?”

“Yes?”

“Yove you.”

She drops the spoon on the counter and fumbles slightly to pick it back up again. The warmth from that statement spreads all the way down to her fingertips, but she has to close her eyes and take a deep breath. 

She can’t cry, or that warmth will quickly be replaced by searing pain starting from her lower left side. 

She looks down at Jamie and kisses her cheek, “I love you too, peanut.”

Jamie grins, “Mac cheeeeeeese!”

Laughing hurts almost as much as crying would’ve, but she can’t help it. Maggie tilts her head, “Oh…so you don’t love me, you just love the mac and cheese.”

“Mac _cheeeeeese_!”

“I knew it…” she laughs.

Jamie hops down from the chair and starts marching around the kitchen, chanting “mac cheese” over and over, and Maggie can’t even stand it. Her heart swells in her chest, and she doesn’t want the moment to ever end.

She doesn’t have her phone nearby, so she can’t take a picture—but she stands there, leaning against the counter, watching the goofy toddler dance around her apartment, not daring to interrupt. 

* * *

_Alex is curled up in the front seat, and Maggie knows she’s staring at her, but she’s driving and she can’t give her more than a quick glance, “What?”_

_“Nothing…I just wish you had a picture of that—or a video.”_

_“No need,” she laughs, “She still does it.”_

_Alex frowns, “I’ve never seen it…”_

_Maggie thinks back through the last few months, “I don’t make it very often anymore—thankfully she eats a wider variety of food…” she shrugs, “Since you’ve been around, I usually cook something a little more grown up.”_

_She looks over and Alex leans forward and bats her eyelashes, “Trying to impress me?”_

_“Yes, definitely,” she grins._

_That earns her a peck on the cheek._

_“I appreciate that—but now I know what we’re having for lunch.”_

* * *

Nothing particularly eventful happens the rest of the month. James comes back in May—as promised—and they spend a week enjoying the weather that has finally turned warmer.

Jamie’s biggest milestone is that she no longer has to go to weekly therapy—it’s now only monthly. 

Maggie’s biggest milestone is that she doesn’t feel like she needs to see her own therapist at all.

…

In June, they first wave of trainees is officially graduated, and Maggie and Olivia spend a week in meetings going through the whole program with their bosses. They discuss what worked, what didn’t, and comb through applications for the next set of recruits that are starting in August.

Maggie had been hoping that her bosses would send her back to National City by now, but they make no mention of it.

Normally she would bring it up, but she knows she can’t take Jamie across state lines—and if she asks and they say she can go back, she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to leave Jamie behind.

Turns out, she might need her therapist more than she thought…

…

On the fourth of July, they’re at Olivia’s for a barbecue and to watch fireworks. Jamie immediately takes off to play with the kids, and Maggie barely sees her for the next couple hours.

She’s sitting out on the patio with Olivia and her sister-in-law, talking about nothing, and one of Olivia’s nieces comes up with Jamie in her arms, “Which one’s your mama?”

Jamie points at Maggie, and her heart stops, “Mama, go swimmin!”

The little finger pointed at her chest might as well be a loaded gun. Her whole body goes numb. 

She can see the teenager’s mouth moving, but she can’t hear anything that’s she’s saying. A hand on her arm snaps her out of the trance.

“—come on, Maggie.”

She stares at Jamie, perfectly content on this kid’s hip, and blinks.

Olivia’s nudges her harder, “ _Maggie_. Inside. Come on.”

Maggie follows her in a daze and has no idea why they’re going into the basement, but watches Olivia dig through a few boxes until she pulls out a tiny pink bathing suit and hands it to her.

She takes it anyway.

Olivia grins, “You doing ok there, mama?”

So she wasn’t hearing things. That actually happened, and other people heard it too.

“I—I’m not.”

She snorts, “Yeah, I can see that. Everything ok? You didn’t have the punch did you? Because that stuff will knock you out if you’re not careful.”

Maggie smacks her with the bathing suit, “I’m not drunk,” then she stares at the tiny fabric in her hand, “Why am I holding this?”

“Are you serious?”

She furrows her brow, staring at the pink swimsuit as if it might give her some kind of answer, “Yeah…I—what am I doing with this?”

“Jamie wants to go swimming…?”

 _Mama, go swimmin._ Right. There was more after that first word. Nearly a full sentence, in fact. 

“Are you ok?”

No. She’s still stunned, “She…never called me that before.”

Olivia looks at her like she’s lost her mind, “What are you talking about?”

She snaps her head up, “What are _you_ talking about?”

Olivia narrows her eyes, “Maggie…she’s called you that for…probably two months.”

“ _What?_ ”

Her voice gets more hesitant, “Does she…not do that at home?”

“No—definitely not. Does this look like the face of a person who hears that word regularly?”

Olivia frowns, “Huh.”

Maggie needs to sit down. She walks over to the stairs and leans against the wall, staring at the tiny bathing suit in her hands, “You never told me…”

Olivia sits down next to her and shrugs, “I don’t even know when it changed…it’s been so long.”

“No—it’s just…surprising,” she still can’t wrap her head around it. She’s trying to think if Jamie’s called her that at home, but she’s pretty sure she would’ve remembered. There was that one moment at the hospital, but she thought it was the painkillers.

“Should we stop letting her do that?”

“Oh…uh…no? It’s fine, I guess. I mean, what am I gonna do? Yell at her for that? That seems…extreme.”

Olivia grins, and she looks like she’s about to say something, but then changes her mind. She stands and reaches a hand out to Maggie, “Come on.”

She takes it and follows her back upstairs.

Jamie calls her Maggie—or, technically, Mamie—for the rest of the day. But in the lulls in conversation, she thinks about it. And every time Jamie runs up to her, she braces herself for it. She tries to make herself stop, but she can’t get it out of her head.

When the sun goes down, everyone heads to the front yard. The adults are all in lawn chairs, with the kids stretched out on blankets in the grass, waiting for the fireworks to start.

Maggie’s not sure how Jamie will react, but she seems to be loving the attention she’s getting from all the older kids, and she insists on sitting with them now, too. 

She’s watching her closely though, mind still spinning over that one word— _mama_.

When the first firework goes off, she sees her jump. Some of the kids try to calm her down, but she pushes them all away, Maggie lunges forward and grabs her off of the blanket before she freaks out. 

“I got you, Jamie. You’re ok.”

She pulls her onto her lap and she calms down a little. But her eyes look watery, and her hands are covering her ears, “Mama…” she whimpers.

That word almost knocks her over, but then more fireworks go off and Jamie closes her eyes tight. Maggie puts her hands over Jamie’s ears for her and tucks her closer. When there’s a quiet second, she takes her hands off, “Let’s go inside.”

“No, mama. Stay.”

She’s not sure how she’s going to be able to breathe if Jamie keeps using that word. 

“Ok…we can stay.” 

She sees another firework streak across the sky, and puts her hands back over Jamie’s ears before the sound catches up. After a few minutes, Jamie stops jumping every time one explodes, and she eventually relaxes.

When the whole thing is over she turns around suddenly, “More!”

Maggie laughs, “I don’t have any more. It’s all gone.” She holds out her hands in some kind of proof that she’s not hiding more fireworks anywhere.

“All gone?”

“Yep. All gone. Was it fun?”

“Yes!”

When they get home and she tucks Jamie into bed, she kisses her forehead, “Sweet dreams, little peanut.”

“Yove you, mama.”

She freezes. Christ _…_ this kid’s going to kill her, “I love you too, Jamie,” she manages.

After that day, Jamie never called her Mamie again.

* * *

_“Mama?”_

_Maggie looks over her shoulder where Jamie is rubbing her eyes, “Hey, sweet girl. We’re almost there.”_

_“How much longer?”_

_“About twenty minutes.”_

_“What were you talking about?”_

_She grins, “You.”_

_Jamie tilts her head, “What did I do?”_

_“Nothing. I was telling Alex about you when you were little.”_

_“Like what?”_

_“Like…everything.”_

_Alex turns around, “I wanted to know all about you.”_

_Jamie furrows her brow, “You already know all about me!”_

_“That’s not true,” Alex laughs, “I just found out you love_ _mac and cheese—and I didn’t know that before!”_

_Maggie glares, “Alex…”_

_Jamie’s eyes get wide, and she starts dancing and chanting from her seat, “Mac and cheese! Mac and cheese!”_

_Alex laughs again, and Maggie groans, “She’s not going to stop, you know…”_

_Alex joins right in, “Mac and cheese! Mac and cheese!”_

_Maggie rolls her eyes and turns the radio up louder._

_…_


	5. Jamie Grace Sawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's mostly just a lot more fluff. <3

_They make it to the hotel with enough time for them all to shower and change—and then get right back in the car again._

_Around 3PM, Maggie, Alex and Jamie pile out of the car, and head up the long driveway. Maggie notices that this house isn’t extravagant, but it’s definitely nicer than the one in Gotham._

_They follow in a few people that Maggie doesn’t know, and she’s too busy reaching for Alex’s hand to notice the woman at the end of the hall—but Jamie sees her right away._

_“Aunt Viv!”_

_She takes off at a run, and thankfully Olivia Ryan has four kids, because the fact that she can balance a glass of wine and also wrap a running five-year-old into a bear hug can only come from experience. And to Maggie’s pleasant surprise, the look on Olivia’s face means her husband was able to keep their arrival a secret._

_“Oh my goodness! What are you doing here!? I missed you so much, baby girl!” She sets the glass on a table behind her to pick Jamie up and hug her tight._

_“I missed you too!”_

_Jamie leans back slightly, and Olivia gives Maggie a look that says she’s got some explaining to do in a minute—but right now she’s too occupied by Jamie, “Look at you! You’re not a baby girl anymore, are you?”_

_“I’m five!”_

_“I remember! How was your birthday?”_

_“Good! We went ice skating again!”_

_“You did? You didn’t fall, did you?”_

_“No, but Alex did,” she giggles._

_Maggie keeps a hand in Alex’s as they weave through a few people to catch up. She only drops it when Olivia puts Jamie down to give her a hug too._

_“And look at_ you _, Assistant Chief Ryan. That’s quite the fancy title you’ve gotten yourself.”_

_Olivia squeezes her tight before letting her go, then waves her off, “Nah…it’s no big deal.”_

_“Oh really?” Maggie laughs. She gestures to the packed house around her, “Is that why there’s a full-on party happening today?”_

_She blushes, “My husband’s idea…he’s very proud.”_

_“As he should be.”_

_Olivia shakes her head, “I can’t believe you came all the way up here…”_

_“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it. Seriously—congratulations, Ryan.”_

_She blushes slightly, “Thanks, Detec—no, no—Captain, right?” Maggie nods, “Captain Sawyer.” Then she suddenly bursts into laughter._

_Maggie laughs through her confusion, “What’s so funny?”_

_“I have four kids…that’s—sorry. I said Captain Sawyer and then instantly pictured you on some kind of pirate ship.”_

_Maggie immediately turns to Alex, “Don’t even think about it,” she warns._

_The glint in her eye and the smirk she’s trying to hide means she has_ definitely _already thought about it._

_Olivia suddenly registers Alex’s presence—Maggie’s hand in hers, and Jamie now leaning into her side. Her eyes light up, “I’m so sorry! I seem to have lost my manners. I’m Olivia.”_

_Alex smiles, “You’re fine. I’m Alex. The terrible ice skater.”_

_“And my girlfriend…” Maggie adds, but then she stops because Olivia is eyeing Alex, looking at her in a way that leaves her…baffled._

_Olivia turns to Maggie with wide eyes, “Wait—Alex, as in…Alex Alex?”_

_Oh right. She forgot she kinda knew about Alex. Before she can explain, Jamie cuts her off._

_“Not Alex Alex,” she giggles, “Alex Danvers!”_

_All three women laugh, and Olivia looks to Jamie, “Well that’s good to know! It would be pretty silly if her name was Alex Alex, wouldn’t it?”_

_“Yeah…” she suddenly looks up and tugs at Alex’s shirt, “Alex? I have to go to the bathroom.”_

_“Oh, it’s down the hall to the left.”_

_Jamie takes Alex’s hand and tugs her along. Alex looks up at Maggie and smiles, “I guess we’ll be right back.”_

_As soon as they disappear, Olivia puts a hand on Maggie’s arm, “Oh my god, I’m sorry. Did I freak her out? I didn’t mean to. But—that’s the same Alex right? That’s her?”_

_Maggie grins, “Don’t worry about it. She’s pretty tough. I’m sure she’s fine. But yes, it’s the same Alex.”_

_“Badass, brilliant, and beautiful…” Olivia muses, “You weren’t wrong.”_

_Her jaw drops slightly, “I can’t believe you remember that!”_

_“Hey! I wasn’t the one drinking that night,” she smirks._

_Maggie laughs, “Touché…”_

_“Speaking of…” she grabs her wine glass from behind her, “Can I get you something?”_

_…_

_Maggie’s surprised how many of these people remember her and Jamie. She gets wrapped into more hugs than she ever thought possible, and Alex gets at least half of them too._

_They were friends and they’d kept in touch—plus a lot of Olivia and Pete’s family still lived in Gotham, so they came back often while Maggie was still there—but she hadn’t seen any of them in close to a year._

_You never would’ve known._

_She’s surprised how easy it is to sit in the crowded house, mingling with family members and friends of Olivia’s she hasn’t seen in a while. It’s not quite like being with the Super Friends, but it’s nice._

_…_

_The party drags into the night, and one-by-one, everyone starts going home. Maggie notices there’s not too many people left, and she looks for Jamie to tell her they’re going to leave soon._

_She finds her in Claire and Sara’s room, both younger girls sitting on the floor while the oldest puts make-up on them._

_She waits until Claire’s moved onto her own sister before she calls her, “Jamie?”_

_Her daughter turns around with the proudest grin._

_Maggie smiles, but makes sure not to laugh—even though the bright purple eyeshadow, and hot pink blush, and red lipstick are way too much, and were definitely applied by a thirteen-year-old who doesn’t have the steadiest of hands._

_“You look very pretty.”_

_Jamie beams,“Thank you! We’re getting makeovers and then we’re gonna dress up and put on a show!”_

_Now she’s intrigued, “Oh yeah? What kind of show?”_

_Sara whips her head around, “A dance show!”_

_“I can’t wait! Any chance this show is going to happen pretty soon? It’s getting late, and we’ve got to go, peanut.”_

_“Awww…do we have to?” Jamie whines._

_“We have to,” she frowns._

_“But I’m not even tired!”_

_“I know. But all those times you were sleeping in the car, guess who wasn’t sleeping?”_

_“You…” she grumbles._

_“Good guess. And Alex. We’re gonna see these guys all weekend, I promise. Plus, I think we’re going to the zoo tomorrow…”_

_Jamie’s eyes light up at the mention of the zoo, and Maggie thinks she’s got her—but then she crosses her arms, “Then can’t I just stay here until tomorrow?”_

_Sara whips her head around so fast, that Claire can’t move out of the way and now there’s lipstick smeared all over her face, “Yes! Yes! Sleepover! Pleeeease!”_

_Maggie laughs and grabs a tissue. She kneels down to wipe her face, “Come here, you goofball…”_

_She sits patiently while Maggie cleans the lipstick off of where it doesn’t belong, then she jumps up, “Pleeeeease Maggie? Please can we have a sleepover?”_

_“Yeah, Mama. Pleeeease?”_

_She shakes her head, “It’s not up to me. You need to ask your mom and dad.”_

_Jamie and Sara sprint down the hall, and Maggie looks at Claire, “They’re not going to sleep at all, are they?”_

_She laughs, “Nope. But that’s ok. Sara misses her. Jamie’s like her little sister, and…” she shrugs, “I haven’t been a very good big sister lately.”_

_That’s an interesting thing to say. Maggie looks around the room, “I think you’re being a pretty great sister right now.”_

_“Thanks,” she blushes, “It’s just…hard. When we were little we played all the time…but now…I don’t know. I want to be with my friends, and she still wants to play little kid games.”_

_Maggie nods, “Yeah. I bet that’s tough.” She looks through some of the makeup on the floor, and pulls a few things into a little pile, “May I?”_

_Claire nods._

_Maggie swings her legs around so she’s cross-legged, and scoots until she’s within reach of her, “Close your eyes.”_

_She does, and Maggie starts applying the makeup as best she can. She’s no expert either, but she’s got a little experience._

_“I don’t have a sister, so I don’t really know what it’s like. But Alex has a little sister. Her name’s Kara. I love her too, and we have fun when we hang out, but sometimes I want to be with just Alex and I end up hurting Kara’s feelings. I forget that Alex was Kara’s best friend first—just like you’re Sara’s. And…sometimes Kara just needs her big sister.”_

_Claire opens her eyes, “I don’t think Sara needs me. She just won’t leave me alone. She wants to do everything I do, but she’s still a little kid.”_

_She shrugs, “Yeah…right now Sara’s only eight—and maybe it doesn’t feel like it—but when you’re all grown up, no one is going to understand you as well as she does. I know a lot of things about Alex, but even as much as I know…Kara knows more. She had fifteen more years of learning about Alex than I did.”_

_“Yeah,” she sighs, “That’s kind of what my mom says. She says we’re family and it’s important.”_

_Maggie grins, “It is. And you should listen to your mom. But playing with your sister doesn’t mean you always have to play little kid games. I bet she’d like doing just about anything with you if you asked her.”_

_“Like what?”_

_She holds up the blush brush in her hand, “This seems to be something you both like.”_

_Claire frowns, “Oh…I’m not really good at it…”_

_Maggie grabs a mascara wand, “Open your eyes.” She does. “And look up.” She does that too._

_“You’re already a lot better than I was when I was thirteen. Besides, she doesn’t care.” Claire tries to turn toward the mirror but Maggie shakes her head, “No peeking—you’re almost done. Close your eyes again.”_

_She does, and Maggie is only putting lipstick on her, but she doesn’t want her to see it yet._

_“Anyway…the nice thing about little kids is that they really only want to have fun. I might not have a little sister, but I live with a five-year-old.” Claire laughs, and that feels like a small victory. “Sometimes I get so caught up in my boring and serious grown-up stuff, that I forget that I’m allowed to be silly and have fun too.”_

_She reaches for the little mirror and holds it against her chest, “Ready?”_

_Claire nods, and Maggie flips it around so she can see herself._

_Immediately she starts laughing, “Maggie! I thought you were putting real makeup on me!”_

_“This_ is _real makeup!”_

_“My eyes are bright pink and purple!”_

_“And gold,” she adds proudly._

_“My lips are purple too!”_

_“Hey—I didn’t buy this makeup. You did,” she laughs._

_Sara and Jamie run in a second later. “Claire!” Jamie breathes, “You look so pretty!”_

_Sara studies her sister’s face closely, “You look like a unicorn!”_

_Maggie snorts, and Claire laughs, “Thanks? I hope that’s a good thing?”_

_Jamie jumps up and down, “It is! It is!”_

_Sara nods, “It is!”_

_“Wow. You look beautiful, sweetheart. I think I would’ve done hot pink lips, but that’s just me.”_

_Maggie whips her head around to see Alex and Olivia standing in the doorway._

_Alex smiles, “I agree—you look gorgeous.”_

_Claire blushes at the sudden attention, “Thank you.”_

_Olivia tries to deflect a little, “So,” she claps her hands together, “I hear we have a show coming up and also…a sleepover?”_

_“YES!” Jamie and Sara scream._

_They run to the other side of the room, and Sara swings her closet door wide open, “Claire! Can you get the box down for me please?”_

_Maggie reaches a hand up, and Alex pulls her to her feet. “Are you sure, Liv? This is your party after all, you don’t have to babysit my kid.”_

_“Are you kidding?! I would love to. I missed her! Plus…” she lowers her voice and arches an eyebrow, and Maggie already knows where this is going, “you guys should have at least_ one _night to yourselves…”_

_Alex’s cheeks turn pink and Maggie slips an arm around her waist, grinning, “Well if you insist…”_

_Somehow, Alex’s cheeks manage to flush a deeper shade of red._

_…_

_They try to wait around for Sara and Jamie’s show, but Maggie and Alex are fading fast, and it does not seem like the girls are going to be ready any time soon. Around 10:30, she calls it. She knocks on the bedroom door and opens it to find both girls dancing and giggling._

_“Jamie?”_

_She runs over and Maggie puts her hands on her cheeks, “Do you think the show is almost ready?”_

_She shakes her head._

_“Alex and I are falling asleep, peanut. Can you show me tomorrow when I pick you up?”_

_“No!” she cries, “I won’t still have my makeup on!”_

_“Alright. How about if you take a video and send it to me? Then I can have it forever.”_

_“Ok,” she mumbles._

_Maggie kisses her forehead and hugs her tight, “Are you tired?”_

_“No.”_

_She tries not to grin—she sure sounds tired, “Do you want to come back to the hotel with me and Alex?”_

_She hesitates slightly, “…no.”_

_“Ok. Well you have fun, and I will see you in the morning.”_

_Jamie hugs her tighter, “Ok.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“Love you too, Mama.”_

_Maggie squeezes her one last time, “Be good.”_

_“I will.”_

_She makes it halfway down the stairs and then hears her running at her, “Mama?”_

_When she turns around, Jamie’s right behind her, “Yeah?”_

_“Where’s Alex?”_

_She tilts her head, “Oh. Uh…probably putting her coat on.”_

_Jamie shrugs, “I just wanna say bye to her too.”_

_Maggie grins. She turns around, “Come on, we’ll find her.” Jamie jumps up on her back, and she carries her through the house until they find Alex._

_And she called it—Alex is putting her coat on by the front door, “Are you coming back with us, Jamie?”_

_“No, I wanted to say bye.”_

_She reaches her arms out and Alex grabs her from Maggie’s grasp and hugs her tight, “Goodnight, little one. I love you.”_

_“Love you too, Alex.”_

_Olivia hip-checks her, “Sawyer,” she grins smugly._

_She smiles, “Thanks for everything, Liv. I’ll see you in the morning.”_

_“No problem. I’m so happy you guys are here.”_

_Maggie hugs her, but when she lets go, Olivia narrows her eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow…” There’s an question in the way she says it, and Maggie waits—but she doesn’t ask it._

_Maggie lets it go, “Bye, Liv.”_

_…_

_When they get back to the hotel, Maggie is putting the keycard back in her wallet and she feels Alex’s hands around her waist. She melts into her and closes her eyes._

_Alex’s chin rests on her shoulder, “So…I had an idea…”_

_Maggie turns around in her arms, and Alex laces her hands on the small of her back, “Oh yeah?”_

_“Mmhmm…”_

_She leans in close to Maggie’s ear and whispers low—and she grins, “I like the way you think, Danvers.”_

_Alex seems a little surprised, “Really? That’s…that’s ok?”_

_“That sounds_ perfect _.”_

_In less than five minutes, they’re out of their clothes, into their pajamas, and under all of the covers. Maggie is curled into Alex’s side, with her head on her chest, and Alex’s hand running through her hair—and she can hardly keep her eyes open._

_“Does this make us super lame?”_

_Alex laughs, “Maybe. But there’s no one else I’d rather be super lame with than you.”_

_“Aww…such poetry.”_

_“It’s a gift.”_

_She burrows further into her side, and Alex tugs the comforter up higher, “I love you, Mags.”_

_“I love you too.”_

_…_

_She wakes up before Alex and slips down to the lobby to grab them both coffee. By the time she gets back upstairs, Alex is just waking up, “Where’d you go?”_

_Maggie holds up both cups, “Coffee.”_

_“You’re the best.”_

_“I know,” she grins._

_She sits on top of the covers next to Alex, and hands her one of the cups, “How’d you sleep?”_

_“Good. What time is it?”_

_“About 7.”_

_Alex groans, “Too early. This is vacation.”_

_Maggie kisses her forehead, “Yeah…well half of me wants to crawl back under the covers—”_

_“Approved,” Alex interrupts._

_She smirks, “But the other half of me wants to know more about this incredible breakfast place the lady at the front desk told me about.”_

_Alex shoots up, “Food! Food wins.”_

_Maggie starts looking around the hotel room suddenly, “Hold on—I seem to have the wrong Danvers sister. I swear Alex was just here a second ago…”_

_Alex pokes her side for that, and Maggie squirms away from her, giggling, “No! Hey! I’m gonna spill my coffee!”_

_She doesn’t seem to care. Maggie barely gets the cup on the nightstand, and Alex grabs her, tickling her, “The wrong Danvers…” she mutters, “I’ll show you which Danvers you’ve got, Maggie Sawyer…”_

_She lets Alex show her._

_…_

_Turns out, the breakfast place_ is _incredible, and it’s also close enough to the hotel that they can walk. They’re only a few blocks from the water, so on the way back, they stop at a little park that overlooks the bay._

_Maggie puts an arm around Alex, “So…are you ready for the end of your story?” She turns around excitedly, and Maggie has to kiss her adorable face, “What? Did you think I forgot?”_

_“No! Well…I don’t know. I think_ I _forgot, actually,” she laughs. “But please tell me everything. I think the last part was the 4th of July?”_

* * *

 One day in early August, Maggie notices Olivia is much quieter than normal. She hardly says anything on the ride into the precinct, she makes no smartass comments during their morning meetings—and there are _plenty_ of opportunities. 

Except for a mumbled “thanks” when Maggie hands her a coffee, she doesn’t say much at all.

Maggie waits her out, thinking her mood will eventually shift, but by lunchtime she can’t ignore it anymore.

“Alright, Ryan,” she shuts her laptop, “What’s going on?”

“Wh—what do you mean?” but her voice is higher than normal, and they both know it. 

Maggie raises an eyebrow, leans back in her chair, and waits.

Olivia sighs, “Ok…” she nervously shuffles the papers on her desk, then finally meets Maggie’s eyes, “I—I’m leaving. We’re…moving.”

Her jaw drops. She can’t help the shock on her face, but she was not expecting that. Olivia grew up less than an hour from Gotham. She had built her whole career—her whole _life_ —here. She never expected her to be the one to leave the city first.

“Oh…uh…” she’s totally thrown, “when? And…where? Where are you going?”

She winces slightly, “Seattle.”

Wow. That’s not even close. “Better job?” Despite their early head-butting, she thought they made pretty great partners. Maybe it was one-sided…

“No—well…actually, still no. Not for me, at least. For Pete. He got a promotion, but unfortunately it means they want him in the physical building much more often. Too often for him to be flying from Gotham all the time. So…we had to make a decision. I, uh…I didn’t know how to tell you.”

It hurts more than she expected it to. Olivia was pretty much her only friend here, and she’d actually gotten attached to her whole family—not to mention the incredibly amount of support they’d given her with Jamie. 

Jamie. She didn’t think about her yet. How is she going to take it? She loves that whole family like it’s her own. Now she’s left with just Maggie.

She wonders if it’s going to be enough—if she’s enough.

“I’m so sorry, Sawyer.”

She shakes the other thoughts away for now, “No. Why are you apologizing? That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Maggie…”

Yes, it hurts, but she _is_ happy for them, “No, hey—look, I’m not thrilled about it, but I’m happy for you guys. How are you doing? And your whole family…How did they take it?”

She shrugs, “They’re ok. Also not thrilled, but they’ll live.”

“Nice.”

Olivia laughs, “Neither of our families have ventured very far past Gotham, so it’s new for all of us.”

“Did you get a job up there too?”

“Yeah. Same as here. Detective position with the Seattle PD. My new partner probably sucks though,” she smirks.

“I’m sure they do. I’ve set a pretty high bar…” she grins smugly.

Olivia shoots a rubber band at her.

_…_

Olivia hands in her notice that day—she’s got about three and a half weeks left—and the first week flies by.

Maggie hates it. She’s trying to figure out how she’s going to function here without her partner—her friend. She hasn’t had a friend like Olivia in a long time, and she doesn’t want to lose her, but she can’t do anything about the situation. 

That second week, on Tuesday morning, Maggie and Olivia are headed into work, and halfway to the precinct Maggie’s phone rings. She’s driving, so the phone goes right through the speakers in the car, she doesn’t see the Caller ID, “Detective Sawyer.”

“Hi Detective. This is Ms. Sanchez with CPS.”

Maggie hesitates. She tries to remember if she called her recently, or there was a meeting or something she missed…but she can’t think of anything.

“Hey. How’s it going? Is everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine—more than fine, really. I have some good news. There’s a family that’s interested in adopting Jamie.”

Her stomach drops. She can feel the panic creeping in. She looks around the busy street until she sees a spot for her to pull over and park. By the time she does, her hands are shaking, “I—I’m sorry. She’s being adopted?”

“Well, potentially. Her therapist and I agree that Jamie’s improved in your care, and we’ve started combing through adoption applications. There’s one family in particular we feel is a very good fit, but there are a few others we’ll be considering if the first one doesn’t work out.”

She runs her hands through her hair, “That—that’s great,” she hopes her voice comes out steadier than it feels right now, “I…um…so what do I do now?”

“Nothing yet. We still need to meet with the potential family and discuss a few things, but I’ll give you a call early next week and we’ll talk about what the next steps are.”

“Great,” her voice comes out more of a squeak than she’d like. She clears her throat, “Um…that sounds good. Next week. Ok. That’s…really soon. But that’s…good. Sounds good.” 

She’s vaguely aware she said _good_ too many times, but her brain can’t think of anything else.

“Everything ok, Detective?”

“Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just…unexpected.”

There’s a pause and she tries to breathe through her nerves.

“This is what you wanted, right? Your arrangement is…temporary…?”

It comes out like a question, but—yes—it was supposed to be temporary. It was always just temporary. Maggie feels Olivia’s eyes on her, but she refuses to look, “Right. You’re right. Thanks for the heads up. I—I’ll talk to you later.”

She ends the call abruptly, because her voice is starting to break. 

She wants to cry, and she kind of feels like she’s going to throw up, and even so…a part of her is relieved—and that makes another part of her feel guilty. 

She stares out her window, still avoiding her partner’s gaze. It’s a few minutes before either speaks.

“Maggie?”

She tries to say something, but her heart is beating rapidly, and her hands are shaking, and she’s afraid she’ll start crying. She gets out of the car and Olivia follows. She paces on the sidewalk while her partner leans against their cruiser.

“This is good, right? She’ll have a family. She’ll have parents. She’ll be…” she swallows hard, “she’ll be loved?” The tears well in her eyes, and she stops in front of Olivia, searching her face for some kind of confirmation. Some kind of indication that she’s doing the right thing.

Olivia’s arms are hugging herself, and she shrugs one shoulder, “I mean…she already is.”

Maggie leans against the wall and drops her head in her hands, “Yeah—yeah, she is.”

After she calms herself down, Olivia drives them both back to the precinct. 

They don’t talk about it the rest of the day—they don’t have time to, anyway. There’s an alien attack just outside the city, and it’s all hands on deck. 

Thankfully, this time they all make it through unscathed—except for the offending alien, who might wake up in his prison cell a little worse for the wear.

…

When she’s back home with Jamie that night, she suddenly wonders if everything they do is the last.

The last time she’ll see Jamie wearing those adorable pink overalls. The last time she makes her dinosaur chicken nuggets. The last time she has to strip her naked to eat dessert—because if her ice cream drips on her clothes, she gets upset. 

The last time she gives her a bath. The last time she reads her _If You Give A Mouse A Cookie._ The last time she tucks her in for bed.

The last time that tiny voice says, “Goodnight, Mama.”

The last time _any_ tiny voice calls her “mama.”

But then she lies awake, thinking about all of the things she could get back in her life: her free time, her apartment, a dinner that was not shaped like a dinosaur. Maybe even a love life—not that it really existed before Jamie anyway…

…

Her alarm goes off way too early. Well…it’s actually right on time—but it _feels_ way too early. It feels like she hasn’t closed her eyes at all.

She stumbles through her morning routine. She starts the coffeemaker, takes a shower, gets dressed, then goes to wake-up Jamie—and she stops at the door.

Maggie’s standing there watching her sleep, and she just looks so cozy.

She backs out of the room, walks into her own, and grabs her phone. She calls Olivia, “Hey, sorry it’s so early. I, uh…I’m gonna work from home today.”

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. If there’s something urgent, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sawyer.”

She swaps out her jeans and button down for sweatpants and a t-shirt, puts away the hair dryer she no longer needs, then heads back into the kitchen to pour herself some coffee.

When Jamie toddles in a little while later, Maggie’s curled up in the corner of the couch, watching reruns and sipping coffee.

“Good moooornin’.”

She grins. She loves the way Jamie greets her every morning. She’s not sure when it started, but there are very few mornings when she doesn’t say it now. “Good moooorning,” she mimics.

Jamie climbs up into her lap and looks in her mug, “Cup joe!”

Maggie kisses her forehead, “That’s my cup of joe! No coffee for little girls.”

She frowns slightly over being denied coffee, then claps her hands together, “Go Viv’s?”

“Nope. Not today. Today we’re—” she stops with the words _playing hooky_ at the tip of her tongue. She really doesn’t need her repeating that the rest of the day, “We’re taking the day off.”

But Jamie’s three—every day is a day off—it means nothing to her. She looks confused, “Off?”

“Yep. Day off. Are you hungry?”

“Faffles!”

Maggie smiles and squeezes her a little tighter, “Waffles it is, kiddo.”

…

If it really is going to be their last few days together, Maggie wants to make the most of it. She wants to do all the things she knows Jamie loves—but mostly, she wants to be with her as much as she can.

She doesn’t want to spend the day in the apartment, and it’s one of the last few weeks of summer, so she decides to take her down to the beach.

Despite the insane amount of things she has to bring with her—the day turns out to be perfect. It’s a weekday, and some of the schools have already started, so it’s not particularly crowded. She sets up a big blanket for the two of them, and rents one of those giant umbrellas so they don’t melt in the sun, and the day is long, and lazy, and warm.

She slathers Jamie in sunscreen, and helps her build a sandcastle.

She sits her up on a boogie board and floats her out into deeper water, and Jamie giggles every time the waves come and shake the whole thing.

She buys her one of those rainbow-colored shaved ice things, and when Jamie’s hands and face are rainbow-colored too, she carries her back out into the waves to wash it all off.

They eat lunch in the shade and Jamie falls asleep on the blanket. Maggie cracks open the book she brought but never thought she’d actually get a chance to read. As an afterthought, she digs through her bag until she finds her phone at the bottom, and checks to see if she has any messages.

There’s only one from James: _Doing a photoshoot for a Back-to-School piece, but this little girl looks just like Jamie! Miss you guys! Can’t wait to see you soon._

 _Shit._ James. She got so caught up in her own thoughts that she never even told him that Jamie is getting adopted. He’s supposed to visit in a couple weeks.

She needs to call him—but not now. Not today.

She opens the picture, and wow—that girl looks a lot like Jamie, actually. Or…more like what Jamie could look like in a few years, because the little girl in the picture is probably six or seven.

Then she looks over at the Jamie curled up in the shade next to her, covered in sand, in saltwater, her little belly sticking out under her bathing suit top. She wonders about what her future might look like. 

Maggie pictures her with a mom and dad, a couple siblings, in a big house, with a swing set and a dog and ballet lessons—a lot of the things she had and were taken away from her, but also more. Things every kid should have. A home. A family. More love than they know what to do with.

She should let her go.

It’s not about what Maggie wants, it’s about what’s best for Jamie. She deserves the world. She deserves all those things that Maggie can’t give her—the things she can’t promise her.

It breaks her heart, but it’s the right thing to do.

She doesn’t know how she’s going to be able to explain that to James. Or Olivia.

…

That Friday while they’re in their office, she looks up at her partner, “Hey, Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you guys have anything going on tonight?”

She looks at the ceiling like she’s trying to remember, then shrugs, “Don’t think so. What’s up?”

“Do you…” she hates asking, but she hates that she’s lying to her even more, “Do you think you could watch Jamie tonight? Maybe overnight? I have a date.”

Olivia wiggles her eyebrows, and Maggie rolls her eyes. All she had to say was _date_ and her partner became a teenager, “Anyone I know?”

“No.”

But she knows her well enough not to press further, “Sure. We can watch her. What’s one more?” she laughs.

Maggie still feels guilty, “You don’t have to.”

“I’d love to,” she grins.

She doesn’t have a date. She just needs to be alone tonight. Tomorrow she’s supposed to be taking Jamie to CPS for a meeting with Sanchez and the therapist. It’s supposed to be one of their last assessments before starting the final adoption process.

She still hasn’t told James. She doesn’t know how.

It’s going to crush him. It’s already crushing her. The knot in her stomach has been growing by the day, and every time she looks at Jamie, she wants to cry.

It’ll just be better when it’s all over with. 

She can go back to her normal life.

…

Coming home from work that night, Maggie pushes open the door to her apartment, and it’s _so_ quiet.

When she drops her stuff in her bedroom, she notices at least three of Jamie’s toys laying on her floor. She picks them up with a sigh, and throws them into Jamie’s room on her way to the kitchen.

She’s staring into the fridge, but she’s not actually hungry.

She’s staring into the fridge, and it suddenly looks so foreign to her.

The produce bins were always stuffed full, but when she lived by herself, the rest of the fridge was fairly sparse. Now, it was packed full of things that six months ago she never imagined herself buying. Things like applesauce, and juice boxes, and string cheese, and chicken nuggets.

She shuts the door and looks around the apartment.

Jamie’s stuff was everywhere. 

She doesn’t know where the idea came from—or why—only that it did.

Maggie starts gathering up all of Jamie’s things and puts them all back into her room. All the toys in her toy box, all the clothes in the dresser. She puts her shoes and her coat and the Disney DVD’s in there too.

She takes her little towel and the bath toys and the baby shampoo out of the bathroom, tosses them into a basket, and puts it in her closet.

When she’s throughly searched the apartment, she shuts Jamie’s door, leaving all indications of the toddler inside.

She steps back into the living room and looks around—the place looks nearly empty again. It looks…sad, again.

Before she can think on it too much longer, Maggie grabs her keys and leaves.

She ends up at a local bar. The music is loud, the company is decent, and she doesn’t mean to drink quite so much, but it’s been a while since she’s been out, and her tolerance is a lot lower than she remembers.

…

When Maggie wakes up in the morning, she’s done more than a couple things she’s not exactly proud of, although nothing she actually feels guilty about—except one.

She can’t let her go.

Nothing she did last night or this morning was worth giving Jamie up.

Maggie didn’t want her old life back. Hell—her old life doesn’t even feel like her life anyway. Nights at a bar, hooking up with a woman she barely knows, waking up in an apartment she doesn’t recognize…she had that all last night.

And when she woke up this morning, all she wanted was that tiny little voice, drawling out, “Good mooooornin’.” 

She heads home and makes herself breakfast. She kills the hour or so until it’s reasonable to text someone on a Saturday, and as soon as the clock hits 8AM, she texts Olivia: _Headed over soon if that’s ok?_

_No problem. I’ll save you some pancakes. :)_

By 8:45, she’s walking up the the house, but pauses on the front porch.

In the window, she can partially make out the kids sitting on the couch in their pajamas and giggling at Saturday morning cartoons. It’s cute.

She notices Jamie in the midst of all of it, and she looks like she belongs.

Maggie couldn’t promise she’d ever have that kind of life with her.

She changes her mind for what feels like the millionth time in two days—she has to let her go.

As soon as she walks in the door, Olivia greets her, “You’re up bright and early,” she smirks.

“Yeah, well…it wasn’t a very eventful night,” she lies.

Olivia cocks an eyebrow, but Maggie just shrugs.

“How’d it go here?”

“Good,” but Olivia tilts her head, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I’m—it’s fine.”

The look she’s getting means Olivia does not believe her. Maggie follows her into the kitchen. She gets handed a cup of coffee and sits up at the kitchen island. 

“You have your meeting today, right?”

Maggie nods, “Yep.”

Olivia opens her mouth, but then decides against whatever she was going to say.

“Just say it, Liv. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t thought about already.”

She puts down her mug and stares at Maggie, “You’re really going to let her go?”

She sighs, “I wasn’t. Then I was. Then I wasn’t. And now…now I don’t know anymore.”

Olivia nods, “Anything I can do to help?”

Maggie shrugs, “I don’t know. I’ve been afraid to ask you, because I feel like you’ll tell me to keep her. And I haven’t even told James yet, because he’ll probably say the same thing. I can’t imagine a lot of people in my position would give her away, you know?”

“But you want to?” she asks carefully.

“I…don’t know.”

Olivia frowns, “I think you do, Maggie. I think you know and your afraid of whatever answer you’ve come up with.”

Maggie stares into her coffee. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she’s known the whole time what she really, truly wants—and she’s just been too afraid to admit it to herself.

“Maybe,” she admits.

Olivia doesn’t ask Maggie what that answer is. She just puts her coffee down and wraps Maggie into a tight hug.

They sit like that for a few minutes, and finish their coffee in near-silence. Maggie checks her watch and stands up, “We should get going.”

Olivia nods, “Alright. Call me if you need anything, ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Liv.”

“Anytime.”

…

That afternoon, Jamie is in with the therapist and Maggie is sitting in the guest chair in Evelyn Sanchez’s office, nervously glancing at the clock on the wall.

Sanchez is in the room with Jamie too, and Maggie’s mind is trying to come to some sort of conclusion. She’s thinking about these last six months, and the progress Jamie’s made, and their life together, and every time she checks the clock, it’s moving way too fast. She’s running out of time. Pretty soon the decision will be out of her hands.

When Ms. Sanchez walks back in, she sits down at her desk and flips open Jamie’s file—and Maggie stands up.

“Wait—stop.”

The older woman looks confused, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What if…” Maggie wrings her hands, “what if it’s not temporary? What if I can’t give her away? Is it too late? Is it too late for me to put an end to—” she gestures around the dingy office, “all of this?”

Ms. Sanchez takes her glasses off and sets them on her desk. 

Maggie’s stomach is a bundle of nerves, and her heart is thumping loudly, and she’s terrified—not because of the decision she made, but because she thinks she missed her chance.

She wipes the tears that are spilling down her cheek, and wraps her arms around herself, “Please tell me I’m not too late?” She tries not to let her voice crack.

Sanchez closes Jamie’s file, and the smallest smile plays across her face, “Detective…you’re not too late.”

Now, Maggie sobs. It feels like a huge weight has been taken off her shoulders. Like her heart’s been shoved in a box for so long, and it’s finally broken free.

She plops down in the chair and cries. She doesn’t even care. She’s not sure how many minutes go by, but after a little while she feels a tap on her shoulder, and when she looks up, Evelyn Sanchez is holding out a box of tissues.

She takes them and tries to pull herself together, “Sorry…”

“The crying? Happens a lot in here, unfortunately,” she mutters, “I prefer these though—these are _happy_ tears, right?”

“Right,” Maggie laughs thickly. “Still…I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I—I feel like I need to? For so much of it. For waiting until the last minute, for taking six months to figure this out…for that family—” her heart sinks, “Oh no. That family—they’ll find another kid right? I took her from them.”

“She wasn’t theirs to take,” she says gently, “And there are a lot of kids who need help. But right now there’s one less, and that’s a thing to celebrate, don’t you think?”

Maggie nods, “Right. Of course.” She looks up at the clock again, “Can I see her?”

Sanchez grins, “Of course you can. But if it’s ok with you, I want to go over the next steps before you leave.” Maggie nods and she picks up her phone and mumbles a couple of things. 

A minute later the door swings open, and Jamie runs in, “Mama!”

Maggie scoops her up and hugs her tight, “Hey, peanut! I am so happy to see you!”

She tries not to cry because it’ll probably freak Jamie out—but her heart is ready to explode out of her chest, and she never wants to put that little girl down again. She never wants to let her go.

Jamie leans back and holds out her hand, showing off her lollipop, “Mama! Blue pop!”

Maggie grins, “A blue lollipop?! You’re a lucky girl!”

If she didn’t see her mouth moving out of the corner of her eye, she would’ve sworn she imagined it—but the quietest voice whispers, “She’s a _very_ lucky girl.”

* * *

_It had started raining while they were at the park, so Alex hailed a cab._

_When they got back to the hotel, they changed into dry clothes, and Maggie had finished telling the story with Alex in her lap, leaning into her, and her head under Maggie’s chin._

_Now, she’s tearing up, and Maggie kisses the top of her head, “See? I told you it had a happy ending.”_

_Alex tilts her head up so she’s looking at Maggie upside down, “You were right.”_

_Maggie grins, and Alex sits up and spins around so she’s facing her, “You did that on your own…”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I guess…maybe I thought you’d have asked James, or Olivia, or your therapist, instead…_ you _decided. You made the decision to keep her all on your own.”_

_“Oh,” she thinks back, “Well…I had to. I couldn’t do it for them. I had to do it for me. I had to make sure it’s what I wanted.”_

_“Did you ever regret it?”_

_“After that day? Never.” She brushes some of the hair away from Alex’s face gently, “But I sometimes regret that I didn’t know it sooner,” she admits._

_Alex kisses her, “I think it worked out exactly like it was supposed to.”_

_Maggie agrees._

_“So how long until it was official?”_

_“About another month.”_

* * *

 James moves his trip at Maggie’s request, but she doesn’t tell him why.

Then on September 23rd, nearly a full year after answering that call for backup that changed her whole life—Maggie’s whole life changes again.

She picks James up from the airport early that morning, and the three of them go out for breakfast.

While they wait for their food, Jamie is coloring the paper placemat they gave her, and Maggie starts the conversation she didn’t want to have over the phone, “So James—I have some news. Some…big news, actually.”

He puts his coffee down slowly, “Ok?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to, but I had to figure it out for myself, and I hope you don’t hate me, because I’m also going to ask you for a favor at the end.”

He knits his eyebrows, “I…don’t even know what to say to that.”

“I know. Uh…” she nervously stirs the straw inside her water glass, “So about a month ago, I got a phone call from CPS.”

His face falls, and she tries to rush through the bad parts.

“I know. So they had some families that were interested in adopting,” she leaves out her name so she doesn’t suddenly tune into the conversation—but he follows, “and they were getting close to finding a permanent home.”

He looks between Maggie and Jamie at his side, “So this is…what? Goodbye? This is the last—”

She stops him as fast as she can, “No, no! This isn’t that. She…” she smirks, “she’s actually not going anywhere, James.”

He tilts his head.

“Ever. She’s…well, she’s mine.”

His jaw drops, but she’s pretty sure it’s a good surprise, “Permanently? She’s _yours_?”

“Yes—well, no,” she corrects, “Not yet, technically. But she will be!”

He slides out of the booth quickly and hugs her tight, “Congratulations, Maggie.” He pulls back and studies her closely, “You wanted this though, right? You’re happy with this decision?”

She nods, “I am.”

“Good,” then he smacks her arm lightly, “And I cannot believe you didn’t tell me sooner! A month?! Why did you wait so long?!”

He returns to his seat, and Jamie looks up at him curiously. But he winks at her and she goes back to coloring.

“Well that’s the thing. That’s why I asked you to move your trip. It’s today.”

James doesn’t follow, “What’s today?”

She grins, “All of it, Olsen! Today. Today is _the_ day. The day it’s going to be official. We’re gonna go back to the apartment, and get dressed up, and go to court, and sign some paperwork—I hope you brought a tie.”

Now he looks like he’s about to cry and she points a finger at him, “Don’t—don’t you dare. Or I’m gonna cry too. And we’re gonna keep it together, ok? Ok.”

He wipes his eyes, nods, and takes a deep breath.

“There is one more thing though…”

“If you’re going to ask me to take pictures, the answer is yes, and also you can’t stop me even if you wanted to.”

She laughs, “Well thank you for that, but no. That’s not it. I, uh…it’s just me, you know? Me and her. And that’s fine and all, but with my job…I want to make sure she’s ok. So I…I want you to be…” she laughs at the word, “her guardian.”

He doesn’t laugh though. He cries. And she cries. And then she throws a napkin at him for making her cry, but she just loves him so much.

…

The court proceedings are a little stiff, and full of legal jargon and formalities, but Maggie still cries there too.

Jamie is her normal, bubbly self, and Maggie wonders if she actually understands what’s happening—but at least she seems happy about it.

Even Olivia flies back into town that day. She doesn’t make it to court, but she shows up for dinner.

The four of them hang out in the apartment, and afterwards, Maggie brings out a little ice cream cake with all kinds of rainbow sprinkles on it.

Jamie’s eyes practically pop out of her head.

James looks down at it and then shakes his head with a big, dopey grin, “Well, _that’s_ adorable.”

She looks down at the cake and blushes. Both of them are staring at her, and it’s uncomfortable, “Ok, yes. I’m a total sap. Go ahead and mock me. I can take it.”

Olivia shakes her head, “Nah, I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. That actually _is_ adorable.”

She stops to look at the top of the cake again before she cuts it.

In careful cursive it reads:  _Jamie Grace Sawyer._

* * *

  _They head back to Olivia’s house after breakfast, and Jamie runs straight at them when they walk through the front door. She jumps into Maggie’s arms, but she makes sure to reach an arm out to Alex too._

_And Maggie missed her—especially after telling Alex the last part of that story._

_She’s so used to her always being by her side, it was still weird the few times when she wasn’t. It felt like a piece of her was missing._

_“I needed that hug. I missed you.”_

_Jamie wraps her arms and legs tighter around her, “Missed you too.”_

_Maggie kisses her cheek, “I love you, my little peanut.”_

_“Love you too.”_

_She puts her back down and she takes off up the stairs._

_Maggie and Alex head down the hall toward the kitchen and Maggie greets Olivia a hug too, “Hey. Thanks again. I hope she behaved for you.”_

_“Oh yeah, she’s still sweet as ever.”_

_Jamie and Sara run down the stairs, with Claire not far behind, “Show her! Show her! Show her!”_

_Claire pulls out her cell phone and starts swiping through pictures, holding it out for Alex to see, as the younger girls retell their entire sleepover._

_Olivia nudges Maggie’s shoulder, and lowers her voice, “Ok,_ what _did you tell her yesterday?”_

_Maggie shrugs, “I don’t know what you mean.”_

_“Uh-huh…” she mutters. “They have been at each other’s throat for months. And suddenly…it’s like they’re new kids. They pushed their beds together last night, and all three of them slept on it like that. I thought I was drunk.”_

_Maggie snorts, “Your punch is notoriously strong…”_

_“Seriously, Sawyer, whatever it was, thank you.”_

_She grins, “You’re welcome. Hopefully, it lasts more than a night.”_

_Olivia takes a few steps away from where the girls are crowded around Alex, and tilts her head so Maggie follows. She looks like she’s up to something, but Maggie has no idea what it could possibly be._

_She nods in Alex’s direction, and whispers behind her coffee mug, “You’re gonna marry that woman, aren’t you?”_

_The grin on her face is automatic. Heat radiates through her whole body, and her heart presses against her ribs—but she’s not nervous. She feels perfectly calm. She leans against Olivia’s shoulder, “That’s the plan…”_

_…_


End file.
